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NEW  LIFE  IN  NEW  LANDS 


Notes  of  Travel 


BY 


GRACE    GREENWOOD. 


NEW  YORK: 
J.    B.   FORD    AND    COMPANY. 

1873- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872, 

BY  J.  li.  FORD  a:;d  company, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington- 


\ 


University  Press:  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge 


L^^ 


DEDICATORY. 


I  WOULD  especially  inscribe  this  book,  with  my  love, 
crt  to  two  good  women  and  true,  in  whose  expansive 
>^  cottage-homes  much  of  it  was  written,  —  Mrs.  Mary 
g  Byers    of    Denver,    and    Mrs.   Sarah    M.    Clarke    of 

Hi 

;^   San   Francisco. 

^  GRACE   GREENWOOD. 

CD 


I 


i 


■II 


A   FEW  WORDS   BY   WAY   OF 
PREFACE. 


THE  volume  which  I  have  the  temerity  to  bring 
as  a  httle  offering  to  the  great  American 
public  is  my  first  offence  in  the  book  line  for  some 
years.  It  is  surely  not  a  grave  offence,  being  com- 
posed of  light  letters,  contributed  during  the  last  eigh- 
teen months  to  the  "  New  York  Times."  They  were 
written  irregularly  and  hurriedly,  in  brief  intervals  of 
travel,  visiting,  lecturing,  and  sight  -  seeing.  Unfortu- 
nately a  severe  illness  in  the  late  summer  and  early 
autumn  prevented  me  from  giving  them  the  careful 
revision  they  greatly  needed.  They  go  into  print  the 
second  time  with  all  their  old  sins  on  their  heads,  — 
the  "  original  sin "  of  having  been  a  journal  of  travel 
over  well-traveled  paths  ;  "  sins  of  omission  "  in  matter 
of  philosophic  thought  and  valuable  statistics  ;  "  sins  of 
commission  "  in  the  way  of  puns  and  slang  and  "  fool- 
ish jesting  which   is   not  convenient." 


VI  PREFACE. 


Still,  as  a  happy  record  of  a  period  of  rare  enjoy- 
ment, of  experiences  fresh  and  bright  and  sweet  to 
me  ;  as  an  absolutely  truthful  picture  of  life  as  I 
saw  it  in  the  great  Western  Territories  and  the  grand 
Pacific  State,  I  commend  it  to  the  dear  and  generous 
friends  here  and  yonder  for  whom  I  kept  the  record, 
whose  kindness  gave  to  the  picture  its  best  brightness 
and  beauty.  I  commend  it  to  them  with  loving  trust, 
and  with  respectful  confidence  to  the  rest  of  man- 
kind. 

If  from  some  of  the  richest  poetic  treasure-fields  of 
the  world  I  have  brought  only  rock-crystals  of  fancy 
and  sentiment,  I  hope  they  are  good  articles  of  their 
kind,   and   I   do   not  call   them   diamonds. 

G.   G. 

Chicago,  December,  1872. 


CONTENTS. 


— * — 

Page 

Chicago  as  it  was "^ 

.       .       .       •  26 

Colorado     

Utah '^' 

172 
Nevada         

...     188 
California 

Homeward  Journey 3  4 

Colorado  in  Autumn .401 


CHICAGO    AS    IT    WAS 


Chicago,  July  12,  1871. 

IN  fast  and  friendly  Chicago,  weeks  go  by  like 
days,  and  days  like  hours,  and  life  is  almost 
too  rapid  to  be  chronicled.  The  "  glorious  Fourth  " 
has  already  faded  into  the  dim  distance.  I  remem- 
ber, however,  that  it  was  a  perfect  day,  even  in 
a  pic-nickian  sense.  We  spent  it  out  of  town, 
some  eight  miles  to  the  westward,  on  the  prairie, 
at  a  gentleman's  pretty  country  seat,  — feasting 
and  disporting  under  noble  ancestral  trees,  some 
of  them  as  much  as  four  years  old  !  It  was  fine 
exercise  dodging  about  under  them  to  catch  the 
flickering  shade.  But  we  were  quite  as  jolly  as 
we  could  have  been  under  the  olives  of  Albano, 
the  cedars  of  Warwick,  or  the  big  pines  of  Cali- 
fornia. I  have  been  from  Chicago  some  four  years, 
and  in  that  time  its  growth  and  improvement  have 
been  absolutely  marvellous.      It  grows  on  Indepen- 


CHICAGO    AS    IT    WAS. 


dence  days  and  Sabbath  days  and  all  days.  It 
grows  o'  nights.  Its  enterprise,  daring,  and  vigi- 
lance storm  the  land  and  fetter  the  sea,  defy  and 
override  physical  laws,  and  circumvent  nature.  A 
great  part  of  the  west  side  of  the  city  seems  to 
me  to  have  been  heaved  up  out  of  the  mud  by  a 
benevolent  earthquake.  I  see  beautiful  and  stately 
marble  buildings  where  four  years  ago  were  the 
humble  little  domiciles  of  the  Germans,  or  the  com- 
fortless shanties  of  the  Irish  emigrants.  What  were 
then  wastes  of  sand  and  rubbish  and  weeds  are  now 
lovely  public  squares  or  parks,  with  hard,  smooth 
drives,  ponds,  rocks,  hillocks,  rustic  bridges  and 
seats,  pretty  vine-shaded  arbors,  and  the  usual  park 
accompaniments  of  tame  bears  and  caged  eagles. 

All  this  rapid  change  and  progress  is  as  myste- 
rious as  it  is  marvellous,  till  you  know  a  regular,  gen- 
uine Chicagoan,  and  see  him  go  about  his  business 
with  a  drive,  a  devotion,  a  matchless  economy  of 
time  and  means,  which  stop  just  short  of  hurry  and 
greed,  —  of  the  desperate  and  the  sordid.  The  very 
struggle  which  the  men  of  Chicago  have  always 
waged  against  adverse  natural  conditions  has  been 
to  a  degree  ennobling,  and  has  Hfted  their  lives  above 


DRAINAGE. 


the  commonplace.  It  is  essentially  heroic  ;  it  is 
something  titanic  ;  it  is  more  creation  than  devel- 
opment. Foot  by  foot,  inch  by  inch,  they  have 
gained  on  swampy  flats,  on  oozing  clay-banks,  on 
treacherous  sand-heaps.  Every  year  has  chronicled 
new  enterprises,  new  triumphs.  The  sluggish,  mias- 
matic waters,  once  all  abroad,  have  been  driven  back, 
and  headed  off,  and  hemmed  in,  and  at  last  brought 
to  bay  in  the  horrible  little  river  that  now  creeps  in 
a  Stygian  flood  through  the  city  it  does  its  best  to 
poison  and  pollute,  while  sullenly  bearing  back  and 
forth  rich  burdens  of  commerce.  But  the  hour  has 
almost  come  when  that  ill-famed  stream  must  take 
the  back  track,  —  double  on  itself,  — -  actually  run  up 
its  channel,  and  through  the  Ilhnois  Canal  into  the 
Illinois  River,  and  so  down  into  the  Mississippi. 
Then  Lake  Michigan,  who  does  a  great  deal  of 
mischief  for  lack  of  better  employment,  will  have  a 
heavier  job  to  perform  in  the  cleansing  line  than  the 
rivers  Peneus  and  Alpheus  together  accomplished 
for  Augeas ;  and  Hercules  the  canal-digger  of  Elis 
will  be  outdone  by  one  Chesebrough. 

I  remember  the  reply  of  a  Washington  candidate 
for  the  civil  service  to  the  question,  "  Into  what  do 


I-O  CHICAGO    AS     IT    WAS. 

the  Northern  lakes  empty  ? "  It  was,  "  Into  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico."  We  smiled  at  that  answer  ;  but 
the  time  draws  nigh  when  it  shall  be  vindicated  and 
verified.  The  young  man  was  a  prophet.  He  spoke 
for  posterity  and  Chicago.  We  are  all  waiting  the 
great  experiment  with  anxiety,  as  once  we  hung  with 
wild  expectations  on  the  ditching  at  Yorktown  and 
the  opening  of  the  canals  at  Vicksburg  and  Dutch 
Gap.  If  it  succeeds,  it  will  doubtless  be  a  grand 
thing  for  Chicago  ;  but  what  will  it  do  for  the  unfor- 
tunate people  who  live  along  the  line  of  the  canal  ? 
It  is  said  that  a  ship  canal  through  the  Isthmus 
of  Darien  may  turn  the  course  of  the  Gulf  Stream, 
and  make  of  England  a  boreal  waste.  Is  it  not  pos- 
sible that  this  new  enterprise  of  engineering  will 
desolate  a  smiling  country  by  sending  off  travelling 
the  fearful  smells  of  this  monster  sewer,  to  sicken 
the  sweetest  day  and  hold  high  carnival  at  night  ? 
Of  course,  it  depends  on  the  present  character  of  the 
Illinois  Canal,  for  cleanliness  and  wholesomeness, 
whether  the  union  be  a  suitable  one.  If  it  were  our 
Washington  Canal,  I  certainly  should  not  forbid  the 
banns. 

But   for  a  pleasanter   theme.     Lincoln    Park,   on 


THE    PARKS.  M 


the  north  side,  is  perhaps  the  most  striking  and  ap-. 
parently  magical  of  all  the  enterprises  and  improve- 
ments of  the  city.  It  is  already  very  beautiful,  with 
a  variety  of  surface  and  ornamentation  most  wonder- 
ful, when  we  remember  that  scarcely  five  years  ago 
the  spot  was  a  dreary  waste  of  drifting  sand  and 
unsightly  weeds.  The  manner  in  which  these  elusive 
sands,  full  of  the  restlessness  of  the  waves  from 
which  they  have  been  rescued,  are  fixed  and  fettered 
is  very  curious.  Boards,  stones,  sticks,  leaves,  weeds, 
are  laid  on  them,  then  clay  is  added,  and  so  soil 
enough  created  to  be  sown  or  planted.  The  modest 
elevations  called  "  hills,"  by  courtesy,  are  also,  I 
am  told,  "  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  "  out  of 
the  most  unsightly  refuse  and  rubbish  ;  so  that,  if 
future  savans,  taking  them  for  Indian  mounds,  shall 
ever  excavate  one,  they  may  perhaps  come  upon 
distinct  strata  of  oyster-shells,  tin  fruit-cans,  old 
shoes,  and  broken  crockery,  with  a  substratum  of 
hoop-skirts.  No  means,  however  humble,  for  break- 
ing and  elevating  the  surface  are  despised.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  to  hear  that  moles  were  protected 
by  game-laws.  To  obtain  water  for  ponds  and  foun- 
tains they  have  made  a  requisition  on  the  secret  res- 


12  CHICAGO    AS    IT    WAS. 

ervoirs  of  Nature,  —  on  hidden  streams  that  from 
unknown  sources,  perhaps  as  far  away  as  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  have  been  for  ages  groping  their  way 

"  Through  caverns  measureless  to  man, 
Down  to  a  sunless  sea." 

They  come  forth  into  the  light  and  the  sweet,  vital 
upper  air,  leaping  and  shouting,  and  make  haste  to 
join  in  the  great,  busy,  restless  life  around  them. 
Those  artesian  wells,  with  the  lake-tunnels,  will  yet 
make  Chicago  more  than  the  rival  of  Rome  in 
fountains  and  baths,  and  in  that  cleanliness  which 
is  next  to  godliness.  The  great  drive  on  the  lake 
shore,  from  Chicago  to  Evanston,  will  be  another 
wonder,  only  surpassed  by  the  system  of  continuous 
boulevards  and  parks,  a  complete  circumvallation 
of  the  city,  which  at  no  distant  day  will  furnish  one 
of  the  grandest  drives  in  the  world.  Citizens  of 
Atlantic  cities  say  they  miss  their  grand  rocks  and 
hills,  and  the  sea,  "that  symbol  of  the  infinite." 
But  Lake  Michigan  is  a  respectable  bit  of  water; 
and  the  prairie  has  a  beauty  and  even  a  grandeur 
of  its  own.  If  a  cornfield  of  several  thousand  acres 
is  not  "a  symbol  of  the  infinite,"  I  should  like  to 
know   what   is.     The   present   entrance    to   Lincoln 


ROADS     AND     BUILDINGS.  I3 

Park  is  a  little  depressing,  being  through  a  cemetery, 
but  those  old  settlers  are  fast  being  unsettled  and 
re-established  elsewhere.  Even  the  dead  must 
"move  on"  in  Chicago.  It  were  impossible  for  one 
to  tell  where  in  this  vicinity  he  could  take  his  last 
sleep.  Chicago  houses  are  all  liable  to  be  moved, 
even  the  "house  of  worship"  and  "the  house  ap- 
pointed for  all  living."  A  moving  building  has 
ceased  to  be  a  moving  sight  here.  Not  only  do 
small  frame  cottages,  that  a  year  or  two  ago  were 
in  quiet  rural  localities,  take  fright  at  the  snort  and 
the  rush  of  advancing  trade,  and  prance  off  to 
"fresh  fields  and  pastures  new,"  but  substantial 
brick  edifices  sometimes  migrate.  A  few  years  ago 
a  Baptist  church,  on  Wabash  Avenue,  saw  fit  to 
change  sides,  and  came  over  —  in  several  pieces  to 
be  sure  —  to  the  corner  of  Monroe  and  Morgan 
Streets,  where  it  now  stands,  looking  as  decorous 
and  settled  and  close-communion  as  ever. 

The  parks  of  the  west  side,  patriotically  and  demo- 
cratically named  "  Union  "  and  "Jefferson,"  though  re- 
minding one  somewhat,  by  their  modest  dimensions, 
ingenious  contrivances,  and  artifices  of  rock  and 
water  and   hillock    and    bridge  (with   a  "  real  flag- 


14  CHICAGO    AS    IT    WAS. 

Staff"  and  "real  flag"),  of  the  pious  devices  of 
John  Wemmick  for  the  amusement  of  "  the  aged," 
are  yet  sources  of  incalculable  enjoyment  and  good 
for  all  who  live  in  their  pleasant  vicinity.  Wooden 
pavements,  splendid  macadamized  roads,  and  the 
new  boulevards  are  fast  bringing  the  beautiful  subur- 
ban settlements  of  Lake  View,  Kenwood,  and  Hyde 
Park  into  the  municipal  fold.  The  city  is  bear- 
ing down  upon  them  at  a  tremendous  rate,  and  the 
roar  of  traffic  will  soon  drown  for  them  through  the 
day  the  deep  sweet  monotone  of  the  lake.  In  the 
heart  of  the  town  Chicago  is  making  worthy  prepar- 
ations to  entertain  the  great  floating  population  of 
the  world  setting  westward.  The  work  on  the  new 
Pacific  Hotel  goes  bravely  on.  I  do  not  quite  like 
the  location,  and  the  court-yard  seems  to  me  too 
small  for  so  immense  a  caravansery.  I  am  sorry  to 
hear  that  it  is  proposed  to  change  its  name  in  order 
to  do  honor  to  one  of  its  most  munificent  proprietors. 
No  man's  name  seems  to  me  big  enough  for  such  a 
hotel,  —  not  Montmorency,  nor  Metamora,  nor  Ho- 
henzollern,  nor  Hole-in-the-Day,  nor  Frelinghuysen, 
nor  Lippincott.  The  old  court-house  has  taken  to 
itself  wings  to  meet  the  great  rush  of  business  in  the 


ALL    ASTIR.  15 


murder  and  divorce  line  ;  and  I  hear  much  of  Potter 
Palmer's  new  hotel,  which  is  to  be  a  monster  affair, 
capable  of  accommodating  an  old-fashioned  German 
principality,  to  say  the  least. 

In  short,  all  is  astir  here.  There  is  no  such  thing 
as  stagnation  or  rest.  Lake-winds  and  prairie-winds 
keep  the  very  air  in  commotion.  You  catch  the 
contagion  of  activity  and  enterprise,  and  have  wild 
dreams  of  beginning  life  again,  and  settling  —  no, 
circulating,  whirling — in  Chicago,  the  rapids  and 
wild  eddies  of  business  have  such  a  powerful  fascina- 
tion for  one.  Chicago  postmen  sometimes  go  their 
rounds  on  velocipedes.  Chicago  newsboys  are  pre- 
ternaturally  clever  and  wide-awake.  I  remember  one 
of  the  most  diminutive  of  the  guild,  coming  on  to 
the  train  as  I  was  sorrowfully  departing  from  the 
city  one  morning,  in  war  time,  and  offering  to  sell 
me  a  copy  of  a  leading  daily,  and  that  I  said, 
speaking  after  the  manner  of  a  dark-complexioned 
Republican,  "  Why,  my  poor  little  fellow,  where  will 
you  go  to  when  you  die,  if  "you  sell  that  naughty 
paper } "  He  turned  his  curly  red  head  as  he 
answered,  "  O,  to  the  good  place,  I  reckon,  for  I  sell 
ratJier  more  Tribunes  than  Timcses!' 


l6  CHICAGO    AS     IT    WAS. 

I  suppose  I  need  hardly  say  that  I  like  Chicago,  — 
like  it  in  spite  of  lake-wind  sharpness  and  prairie 
flatness,  damp  tunnels,  swinging  bridges,  hard  water, 
and  easy  divorces.  With  all  the  distinctive  charac- 
teristics of  a  great  city,  it  has  preserved  in  a  won- 
derful degree  the  provincial  virtues  of  generous  hos- 
pitality, cordiality,  and  neighborly  kindness.  A  lady 
from  the  East  lately  said  of  it,  very  charmingly,  "  It 
is  New  York  with  the  heart  left  in."  I  do  not  deny 
that  the  genuine  Chicagoan  has  well  learned  the 
prayer  of  the  worthy  Scotchman,  "  Lord,  gie  us  a 
guid  conceit  o'  oursels  ! "  and  that  the  prayer  has 
been  abundantly  answered  ;  but  I  do  not  think  that 
his  self-satisfaction  often  amounts  to  arrogance,  or 
inclines  him  to  rest  on  his  laurels  or  his  oars.  He 
well  knows,  I  think,  that  there  is  small  profit  in 
gaining  the  whole  world  to  lose  his  own  soul,  and 
beautiful  churches  and  beneficent  mission  schools, 
quiet  deeds  of  mercy  and  munificent  charities,  show 
that  he  finds  ways  of  ascent  into  the  higher  life, 
even  from  the  busy  dock,  the  noisy  factory,  the  grim 
foundry,  and  the  tempestuous  Exchange. 

My  memory  of  the  journey  from  Washington,  over 
the  Northern  Central  and  Pennsylvania  Central,  is  a 


THE    WEDDING    OF    THE    RIVERS.  17 

long  panorama  of  surpassing  summer  beauty,  though, 
like  Pilgrim,  after  leaving  the  "  Delectable  Moun- 
tains," I  had  to  pass  through  the  "  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death  "  at  Pittsburg,  and,  unlike  him,  had 
a  world  of  trouble  about  my  baggage.  But,  dear  me, 
it  is  so  long  ago,  —  nearly  four  weeks  !  In  that  time 
Chicago,  very  likely,  has  opened  a  tunnel,  and  stolen 
an  acre  of  land  from  the  lake,  and  drilled  an  artesian 
well  or  two,  and  tossed  up  several  good-sized  hills 
in  Lincoln  Park. 

July  26. 

There  was  a  grand  celebration  by  triumphant 
Chicagoans  in  honor  of  the  wedding  of  the  Chi- 
cago and  Illinois  Rivers,  —  OtJiello  and  Dcsdcviona.  ' 
There  was  a  canal-boat  excursion  —  which  must 
have  seemed  like  a  dream  of  other  days  —  of  the 
city  magnates,  and  all  the  power  of  the  press,  distin- 
guished strangers,  and  a  stray  major-general  or  two, 
and  many  hundreds  of  the  common  people,  —  that  is, 
men  not  worth  over  half  a  million,  —  all  headed  by 
his  Honor  the  Mayor. 

They  say  the  going  forth  of  the  Doge  of  Venice  to 
wed  the  Adriatic  could  never  have  been  a  circum- 
stance to  this  excursion.     There  may  have  been  more 

B 


l8  CHICAGO    AS     IT    WAS, 


regal  pomp  and  splendor  on  those  old  occasions, 
but  nothing  like  the  bounteous  feeding  of  yesterday. 
There  may  have  been  a  richer  display  of  costumes, 
but  nothing  like  the  amount  of  Bourbon  and  lager 
drunk. 

I  need  hardly  say  that  the  enterprise  of  regenerat- 
ing the  Chicago  River  is  a  success,  —  for  of  course 
they  would  n't  celebrate  a  failure,  —  and  Chese- 
brough,  the  bold  engineer,  may  take  up  the  brave 
iteration  of  old  Galileo,  "  It  moves  ! "  The  great 
deeps  of  mud  and  slime  and  unimaginable  filth,  the 
breeding-beds  of  miasms  and  death-fogs,  are  being 
slowly  broken  up,  are  passing  away.  One  can 
actually  perceive  a  current  in  the  river  at  some 
points,  and  straws,  after  some  moments  of  indecision, 
will  show  which  way  it  runs.  On  Monday,  washing- 
day,  Lake  Michigan  really  buckled  down  to  her 
work,  and  did  wonders  in  the  cleansing  line.  We 
early  drove  down  to  see  how  far  dilution  and  clarifi- 
cation had  proceeded  in  the  thick,  black,  torpid 
stream,  more  interested  than  though  about  to  witness 
the  annual  miracle  of  Naples,  —  the  liquefaction  of 
the  blood  of  San  Gennaro.  We  noticed  first  that 
the  color  of  the  water  had  changed  from  almost  inky 


RIVER    REGENERATION.  I9 

blackness  to  something  of  the  tawny  hue  of  the 
Tiber  after  a  storm.  Then,  looking  steadily,  we  per- 
ceived it  moving  sluggishly,  sullenly,  as  though  in 
obedience  to  an  unusual  and  imperative  morning  call, 
—  a  call  from  the  old  Father  of  Waters  himself. 

They  say  there  is  great  rejoicing  among  the 
millers  and  manufacturers  along  the  river  down  by 
Joliet  at  the  increase  of  water  which,  even  at  this  dry 
season,  sets  all  their  wheels  whirling.  The  change  is 
not  only  a  blessing  to  factories,  but  to  olfactories. 
There  is  an  immense  modification  of  the  peculiar 
overpowering  odor  which  was  like  what  a  grand  com- 
bination of  the  "  thirty  thousand  distinct  smells  "  of 
the  city  of  Cologne  would  be,  —  an  odor  that  only 
last  week  sickened  the  air  for  half  a  mile  on  the  lee- 
ward side,  and  for  as  far  heavenward,  probably,  so 
that  it  would  seem  impossible  a  bird  of  delicate  con- 
stitution could  pass  through  it  unharmed. 

If  I  have  given  a  good  deal  of  space  to  this  river- 
regeneration  theme,  it  is  because  it  does  not  seem  to 
me  a  matter  of  mere  local  interest.  With  this  city's 
unprecedented  growth  and  vast  increase  of  com- 
merce, this  river  nuisance  was  becoming  more  and 
more   intolerable   and   notorious.      The   fame   of   it 


20  CHICAGO    AS     IT    WAS. 

went  forth  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  The  sailor, 
arriving  from  foreign  parts,  snuffed  it  afar  off;  out- 
ward bound,  he  crowded  all  sail  to  escape  it. 

Last  week  we  took  a  little  trip  to  the  northwest,  as 
far  as  Elgin,  to  make  a  visit  to  the  family  of  Hon.  S. 
Eastman,  our  late  Consul  to  Bristol.  On  this  trip  I 
had  my  first  summer  prairie-views.  All  I  had  seen 
before  were  winter  pictures  of  vast  expanses  of  snow 
or  dull  brown  turf,  inexpressibly  monotonous.  The 
land  between  Chicago  and  Elgin  is  rolling  and  con- 
siderably varied  by  wood  and  water,  richly  produc- 
tive and  well  cultivated. 

To  me  there  is  something  grand  and  more  than 
princely  in  the  long  stretch  and  wide  expanse  of  pas- 
ture and  grain  land,  and  in  the  absence  of  the  usual 
petty  boundaries  that  make  a  New  England  land- 
scape look  like  a  child's  dissected  map  by  comparison. 
But  it  is  a  hard  country,  this  prairie  country,  for 
your  Helmbolds  and  Hostetters  ;  "  for  miles  and 
mileses  "  not  a  rock,  or  stone-wall,  or  board  fence,  or 
a  "  coign  of  vantage  "  of  any  sort.  They  must  pass 
on  and  leave  no  sign.  But  we  know  well  we  shall 
meet  them  at  the  first  stopping-place.  There  is 
no  "  let "  to  the  march  of  Buchu  and  Bitters.     We 


ELGIN.  21 

may  fondly  fancy  we  have  the  great  medicine-man 
of  the  day,  he  for  whom  toil  the  airily  clad  Hotten- 
tots at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  driving  his  six 
Patchens  at  Long  Branch  in  a  magnificent  chariot 
with  the  excellent  partner  of  his  fortunes  at  his  side, 
resplendent  with  diamonds  and  other  Buchu-terie  ; 
but  let  us  go  forth  in  any  direction,  and  we  can  only 
follow  Helmbold.  Take  the  wings  of  the  morning, 
and  flee  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  and 
Helmbold  will  be  there  before  you.  He  is  a  greater 
traveller  than  the  German  savant  whom  the  fair  New 
York  lady  confounded  him  with,  when  she  came  before 
the  bronze  bust  in  Central  Park.  The  white  bear  of 
Labrador,  the  kangaroo  of  Australia,  and  the  seal 
of  Alaska,  know  Helmbold.  Well,  all  this  fortune 
and  fame  being  the  simple  result  of  business  clever- 
ness and  dash,  and  the  reward  of  virtuous  advertis- 
ing, let  them  increase  and  keep  on  increasing  as 
long  as  the  Hottentots  and  the  board  fences  hold  out. 
The  approach  to  Elgin,  on  a  bright  day,  is  very 
pleasant  and  cheering.  The  Fox  River,  with  its 
clear  sparkling  water,  and  lovely  green  banks,  and 
several  very  respectable  hills,  are  rare  and  pictu- 
resque  features.      The    whole    town    has    an    airy, 


22  CHICAGO     AS     IT     WAS. 


cheery,  well-to-do  look,  —  something  of  the  aspect  of 
a  New  England  town  with  a  new  life  let  into  it. 

Mr.  Eastman  must  have  loved  the  mother  coun- 
try well,  in  spite  of  the  ugly  mood  the  old  lady 
was  in  during  the  early  part  of  his  consulship, 
for  he  has  brought  home  with  him  many  solid 
mementos  of  his  stay,  —  hosts  of  pictures,  some 
of  them  very  valuable,  books  by  the  thousand,  and 
massive  mahogany  furniture  by  the  ton.  It  were 
annihilation  to  a  sleeper  to  have  the  canopy  of 
the  bed  in  the  large  guest-chamber  come  down ; 
but  it  never  will  come  down. 

Of  course  we  visited  the  watch-factory,  the  chief 
lion  of  Elgin,  giving  up  an  entire  morning  (and 
feeling  that  it  was  not  half  enough)  to  a  delighted 
inspection  of  the  works  of  the  most  beautiful 
and  wonderful  machinery  I  had  ever  seen.  I  am 
not  going  to  attempt  a  description  of  what  has 
been  so  often  and  so  thoroughly  described.  Still, 
I  fancy  I  could  do  it,  unmechanical  and  unexact 
as  is  the  female  brain,  for  never  did  mortal  wo- 
man question  mortal  man  for  three  mortal  hours 
as  I  questioned  the  courteous  superintendent  whose 
hard  lot  it  was  to  escort  me  about  on  that  mem- 


WATCH-MAKING. 


23 


orable  day.  I  reduced  him  to  such  a  state  of  ex- 
haustion at  last,  that  I  am  persuaded  that,  when 
all  was  over,  stimulants  had  to  be  applied  to  him. 
Through  his  patient  and  luminous  teaching  I  know 
the  watch-making  process,  from  the  rough  beginning 
to  the  polished  ending.  I  believe  I  could  put  a 
watch  together  myself,  after  a  fashion. 

But  though  the  curious  mechanism  of  steel  and 
brass  and  gold  and  precious  stones  interested  me, 
and  the  marvellous  machines,  that  worked  with 
something  approaching  to  the  power,  the  exactness, 
and  the  solemn  quietness  of  the  laws  of  the  Creator, 
interested  me,  I  was  still  more  interested  in  the 
human  mechanism  of  trained  hand  and  eye,  —  in 
the  human  machines  that  mastered  and  directed 
all  the  others.  I  most  enjoyed  looking  at  the 
operatives,  —  neat,  cheerful,  earnest,  and  singularly 
intelhgent  looking  men  and  women, —  and  in  con- 
trasting them  with  operatives  abroad,  thanking 
God  for  the  difference. 

Having  always  at  heart  the  woman  question, 
and  preaching  everywhere  the  gospel  of  equal 
wages  for  equal  labor,  I  dealt  with  my  friend,  the 
superintendent,   on    the     subject    while     going    the 


24  CHICAGO    AS    IT    WAS. 

rounds ;  and  finding  that  the  women,  though  well 
paid  and  apparently  contented,  were  not  as  well 
paid  as  the  men,  I  felt,  as  I  always  do,  like  stir- 
ring up  sedition  among  my  sisters.  He  said  —  that 
patient  superintendent  —  that  the  trouble  was,  the 
girls  would  get  married  and  quit  work,  just  per- 
haps as  they  had  become  well  trained  and  useful, 
and  so  were  not  as  valuable  and  reliable  opera- 
tives as  men,  with  whom  marriage  made  no  differ- 
ence, except  to  fix  them  more  steadily  in  their 
places  and  at  their  work.  To  this  I  replied,  that  if 
women  had  more  avenues  of  labor  opened  to  them, 
and  were  better  paid,  they  would  be  less  likely  to 
marry, -^  at  least  in  a  hurry.  There  would  be  an 
end  among  working-women  to  the  marriage  of  con- 
venience,—  too  often  a  frantic  flop  "out  of  the  fry- 
ing-pan into  the  fire."  Finding  in  the  engraving- 
room  a  woman  of  middle  age,  engaged  in  doing 
the  same  work  precisely  as  the  man  beside  her,  I 
came  down  on  the  superintendent  with  all  the 
thunders  of  Steinway  Hall  ;  but  he  only  smiled 
quietly,  —  meekly,  I  thought,  —  and  seemed  not  to 
have  the  face  to  defend  himself  He  afterward 
informed     me,    however,    that   the    ill-used    lady  in 


WOMEN  S    WAGES.  25 

question  was,  by  an  exception  to  the  general  rule, 
paid  exactly  the  same  wages  given  to  the  male 
artists  with  whom  she  works,  rivalling  them  in 
delicate  graving. 

I  absolutely  longed  to  linger  in  this  bright, 
cheerful  manufactory,  —  so  light  that  it  seemed 
like  a  crystal  palace  of  industry.  Or,  I  wanted 
just  to  eat  and  sleep,  and  then  go  back  and  ask 
a  few  more  questions.  I  absolutely  returned  with 
reluctance  to  Chicago,  where  they  take  no  note 
of  time. 


COLORADO. 


Denver,  August  6,  1871. 

KOSSUTH  once  said  :  "  Watt,  with  a  steam- 
engine,  has  blotted  the  word  '  distance '  from 
the  dictionary."  This  I  recalled  with  a  new  and 
vivid  realization  yesterday  morning,  when  I  woke 
from  my  first  sleep  in  Colorado,  in  full  sight  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  thought,  almost  with  awe,  of 
the  vast  plains  and  the  strange  rivers  which  lay 
between  me  and  the  familiar  city  of  my  last  month's 
sojourn. 

We  took  the  Rock  Island  route  from  Chicago, 
and  went  through  with  great  comfort.  This  runs 
through  a  rich  agricultural  region,  suffering  some- 
what, however,  at  this  time,  from  the  drought. 
There  was  about  our  train  more  of  the  "  Pacific  " 
than  the  "  Express,"  as  it  stopped  in  a  kind  and 
obliging  manner  at  every  little  station.  At  one 
of  the   smallest  and   loneliest   I    noticed   a   solitary 


STATION    LIFE    ON    THE    PRAIRIES.  27 

trunk  put  off,  —  a  handsome  and  huge  affair,  that 
seemed  oddly  out  of  place  there.  In  a  few  moments 
a  group  of  rough  men  and  boys  were  gathered  about 
it,  regarding  it  with  singularly  curious  yet  serious 
looks,  as  though  they  suspected  it  of  containing  a 
dead  body  or  an  infernal  machine.  The  most  deso- 
late of  these  stations  is  enlivened  by  the  presence  of 
children,  not  always  well  behaved,  not  always  cleanly, 
but  merry  and  wide-awake.  At  one,  however,  I  saw 
only  a  woman  sitting  at  the  window  of  her  little 
unshaded  house,  with  her  face  supported  by  her 
hands,  —  a  pale,  worn,  despairing  face,  though  youth- 
ful, looking  out  through  long  locks  of  spiritless  yel- 
low hair  at  the  world  going  by.  "  Mariana  in  the 
Moated  Grange  "  is  not,  to  my  mind,  half  so  desolate 
a  picture  as  was  this.  At  another  station  two  women 
stood  on  the  platform  looking  with  a  friendly  in- 
quisitiveness  into  each  car  as  it  slowly  moved  past. 
When  ours  —  the  last  —  had  gone  by,  I  heard  one 
of  them  exclaim  dolorously  and  wonderingly,  "  Not 
a  soul  among  'em  all  what  I  knowed ! " 

This  station  life  on  the  prairies  of  Illinois  and 
Iowa  has  essentially  all  the  loneliness  of  pioneer  life, 
without  its  dignity,  its  adventure,  and  wild  freedom. 


28  COLORADO. 


Rich  should  be  the  domestic  compensations  for  those 
who  endure  it. 

A  perpetual  wonder  and  delight  were  the  vast 
grain-fields  unrolling  their  mighty  expanses  of  green 
and  gold.  The  bright,  fresh,  billowy  pasture-lands 
of  Iowa,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Omaha,  so  like 
the  English  "  downs,"  were  very  beautiful,  and  the 
greater  part  of  that  afternoon's  journey  through 
Nebraska,  along  the  Platte  River,  I  remember  as 
a  series  of  charming  pictures.  Omaha  somewhat 
disappointed  me.  It  has  not  so  busy  and  thriving 
a  look  as  I  expected.  They  say  it  has  slackened  its 
wild  pace  considerably  during  the  past  year.  It 
had  grown  too  fast,  —  had,  in  fact,  outgrown  its 
original  seven-league  boots. 

Just  out  of  the  town  we  saw  a  freight  train  par- 
tially loaded  with  a  hideous  cargo,  —  a  lot  of  dirty, 
lazy,  greasy-looking  Indians  and  squaws,  —  and  at 
one  of  the  stations  where  we  stopped  for  water  we 
encountered  a  tall  Pawnee,  in  a  flaming  red  shirt  and 
a  peculiarly  airy  fashion  of  "  breeks,"  that  garment 
being  slashed,  with  nothing  inserted  in  the  slashes, 
and  with  several  pendent  portions  fluttering  in  the 
evening  breeze.     His  hair  was  arranged  in  three  long 


THE    VALLEY    OF    THE    SHADOW    OF    DEATH.       29 

chatelaine  braids,  hanging  gracefully  down  his  back. 
He  was  a  "  Pashaw  of  Three  Tails,"  not  counting  the 
before-mentioned  tags  of  drapery.  He  announced 
himself  as  a  physician,  and,  with  savage  ingenuous- 
ness and  love  of  symbols,  he  carried  a  bow  and 
arrows.  His  patients  knew  what  they  might  expect. 
These  native  gentlemen  give  a  wild  flavor  to  the 
scene,  but  on  the  whole  I  think  I  prefer  the  ante- 
lopes and  the  prairie-dog. 

I  suppose  these  lands  of  the  Platte  Valley  can 
hardly  be  called  "  plains  "  ;  but  though  not  arid  and 
desolate,  they  are  sufficiently  lonely  and  sombre.  We 
learn  that  this  was  the  very  "  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death"  to  thousands  of  poor  emigrants  in  the 
early  days  of  California  emigration,  and  in  the  fearful 
cholera  times.  It  may  be  that  before  the  locomotive 
came  to  invade  with  irreverent  noise  and  hurry  this 
haunted  ground,  to  mock  at  poor  perturbed  spirits, 
and  whistle  them  down  the  wind,  a  seer  might  have 
beheld,  any  dreary,  starlit  night,  ghostly  trains,  moving 
silently,  slowly  along  by  this  low,  dark  river ;  might 
have  seen  white,  still  faces  looking  out  of  ghostly 
wagons,  drawn  by  ghostly  horses  and  oxen,  noiseless- 
ly treading  over  the  old  track,  —  over  the  level  graves. 


30  COLORADO. 


Some  of  the  new  settlements  seem  wondrously  thriv- 
ing, drawing  much  of  their  sustenance  from  an  agri- 
cultural district,  small  and  apparently  most  unprom- 
ising. In  one  town  I  noticed,  beside  the  inevitable 
church  and  school-house  and  hotel,  a  bakery,  a  black- 
smith's shop,  a  lager-beer  saloon,  a  billiard-hall,  and 
a  circus-ring.  Thus  gradually  do  the  blessings  of 
civilization  creep  over  this  vast,  barbarous  region  ! 

After  so  long  a  dry  season  I  was  agreeably 
surprised  by  the  very  moderate  amount  of  dust  we 
raised  as  we  dashed  along,  I  have  been  far  more 
annoyed  by  it  in  a  single  journey  from  Washington 
to  Philadelphia  than  I  was  on  all  this  Union  Pacific 
Road.  And  what  dust  we  encountered  was  des- 
tined to  be  speedily  laid,  beaten  down,  annihilated. 
The  day  had  been  fiercely  hot,  and  toward  night 
there  were  welcome  indications  of  a  thunder-shower. 
I  watched  through  every  stage  of  the  slow  and 
majestic  preparation  for  what  proved  to  be  the 
grandest  storm  I  ever  witnessed.  At  sunset  the 
clouds  in  the  west  and  southwest  assumed  singular 
shapes,  fantastic,  yet  threatening,  —  grand,  yet  gro- 
tesque,—  some  fitfully  radiant,  with  half-imprisoned 
splendors  ;  some    black,    as    though    crammed    with 


STORM    ON     THE    PRAIRIE.  3I 


tempests.  Low  down  in  the  horizon  began  the 
first  glancing  and  quivering  of  the  lightning, — 
the  prelude  to  the  great  display.  It  was  like  light 
skirmishing  before  a  general  engagement.  Some 
two  hours,  I  think  it  was,  before  tJiat  came  on  in 
its  full  sublimity  and  awfulness.  A  storm  in  the 
Alps,  when 

"  From  peak  to  peak 
Leaps  the  live  thunder," 

is  a  mere  guerilla  fight  to  it.  There  were  those 
on  the  train  that  night  who  had  seen  many  a 
fierce  storm  on  sea  and  prairie,  but  never  a  one 
like  this,  they  said.  Never,  surely,  was  there  so 
stupendous  a  stage  for  the  display  of  Nature's  fire- 
works as  this  vast  open  heaven  or  this  immense 
level  plain,  lonely  and  bare  and  desolate.  What 
to  this  was  the  "  blasted  heath "  of  "  Macbeth,"  or 
that  on  which  Lear  and  Edgar  wandered,  in  "  night 
and  storm  and  darkness."  One  could  have  read 
Shakespeare  "by  flashes  of  lightning,"  without  the 
aid  of  a  Kean's  fiery  acting.  And  O,  such  light- 
ning !  Sometimes  the  whole  western  sky  was  one 
vast  wall  of  flame  :  then  again  all  was  deep,  dense 
blackness,    till    suddenly,    in    one    solitary  spot,  the 


32  COLORADO. 


"inky  cloak"  of  night  was  ripped  open,  showing 
its  lining  of  fire.  Sometimes,  almost  from  the 
zenith,  the  lightning  was  let  down  in  a  zigzag 
chain,  like  a  burning  ladder,  on  which  one  could 
fancy  fallen  angels  descending.  Sometimes  it  fell 
in  a  river,  a  cascade  of  blinding  light.  Then, 
again,  it  seemed  to  come  up  from  the  earth,  like 
an  eruption,  —  an  infernal  fountain.  It  seemed  as 
though  .all  the  red  demons  of  the  plains  had 
mustered  there  in  the  West  to  bar  our  way  over 
their  old  hunting-grounds,  with  fire,  and  tumult, 
and  tempest ;  yet  all  the  while  our  train  went  boldly 
plunging  into  the  very  heart  of  the  storm.  During 
the  first  hour  the  thunder  was  not  very  heavy, — 
was  scarcely  heard,  indeed,  above  the  rumble  of 
the  train ;  but  at  last  it  came,  clap  after  clap, 
peal  on  peal,  till  many  were  terrified,  and  one  poor 
English  lady,  used  only  to  moderate  insular  thunder, 
utterly  prostrated  and  appalled,  was  thrown  into 
violent  nervous  spasms.  Here  was  a  bit  of  trage- 
dy, —  the  awful  storm  on  the  wide  prairie ;  the 
crash  and  dash,  the  rush  and  roar,  without,  and 
within,  that  poor  sufferer  writhing  and  moaning  in 
half-conscious    agony.     There  were   to  care  for  her 


TRAGEDY    AND    COMEDY.  33 


two    anxious,    well-disposed    women,    but    the    most 
calm  and  effective,  and  not  the  least  pitiful  of  her 
helpers  were  men, — two  gentlemen  up  to  that  hour 
perfect  strangers  to  her.     How  beautiful  this  noble, 
helpful,  human    kindness    seemed    to  me    I    cannot 
tell !     But  the    inevitable  touch  of  comedy  came  in 
duly.     A  young  person    of   color  —  a  child's  nurse, 
of  the   sort   to  whom    the  whole    establishment    is 
wont  to  give  way  —  came  dashing  up  to  the  front, 
with  a  most  awe-inspiring  air  of  professional  impor- 
tance, calling  out,  "  Jest  you  let  me  get  to  her,  mis- 
sus !    I  knows  what  to  do.     It 's  conwulsions.     I  've 
seen  ladies  in  'em  a  heap  o'  times,  and  a  heap  wuss 
dan  dis  yer  lady.     I  nussed  a  lady  what  took  'em 
reg'lar,  and  used  to  flop    around  awful.     I  couldn't 
only  keep  her  down  by  gittin'  on  her  chist,  with  my 
two  knees.     Laws,  honey !  dis  yer  is  nuthin  to  her 
fits.       But   don't   let   her    git    her    hands  and   jaws 
sqninchcd!     Slap  'em  hard,  and  lay  her  on  her  back, 
and  keep  her  thar  !  " 

In  spite  of  some  rash  experiments  and  mistakes, 
in  spite  of  the  ministrations  of  "Virginia's  dark-eyed 
daua;hter,"  and  in  reward  for  much  faithful  nursing, 
the  lady  at  last  came  out  of  her  spasms  and  slept. 


34  COLORADO. 


When  the  storm  had  somewhat  abated,  we  all  re- 
tired to  our  luxurious  Pullman  berths,  where  no 
anxieties  kept  us  from  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the 
just.  A  droll  friend  of  ours  used  to  say,  "I  like  to 
go  to  a  church  run  by  a  good  old-fashioned  ortho- 
dox minister,  for  then  I  can  go  to  sleep  and  know 
that  all  will  go  on  right."  Such  a  comfortable 
faith  one  enjoys,  such  a  quiet  sense  of  security, 
on  any  railroad  presided  over  by  the  masterly, 
watchful,  untiring  mind  of  Thomas  A.  Scott. 

In  the  morning  we  rose  wonderfully  refreshed, 
and  emerged  under  a  smiling  sky,  at  Sidney,  the 
breakfasting-station.  I  see  that  I  here  jotted  down 
in  my  note-book,  "At  this  altitude  napkins,  butter- 
knives,  and  Christian  cooking  disappear."  But  I 
afterward  learned  that  this  meal  was  hurriedly  pre- 
pared, as  it  was  supposed  we  should  be  greatly 
behind  time  on  account  of  the  storm,  and  that 
Sidney  is,  ordinarily,  an  excellent  eating-place. 
Still,  the  bread  I  ate  that  morning  sets  hard  on 
my  memory. 

At  Cheyenne  I  left  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad 
with  real  regret.  I  had  been  treated  with  singu- 
lar  kindness  by  the  officers  of  the  road,  for  which 


CHEYENNE,  35 


I  wish  to  make  my  most  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments. There  is  more  than  one  way  of  doing 
even  a  signal  kindness.  In  this  instance,  the  most 
considerate,  delicate,  generous  way  was  adopted. 
Cheyenne  is  not  an  attractive  place,  but  a  brave 
effort  is  being  made  to  render  it  less  unattractive. 
Some  pretty  houses  are  going  up,  and  some  few 
trees  are  making  a  good  fight  for  life  with  a  hard 
soil  and  a  fierce  sun.  As  the  capital  of  the  Ter- 
ritory that  has  taken  the  first  bold  practical  step 
in  the  matter  of  woman's  civil  rights,  the  place 
commends  itself  to  my  heart,  certainly.  I  should  re- 
joice to  find  it  a  very  Eden,  a  vale  of  Cashmere, — 
which  it  isn't.  But  it  has  a  long  day  to  work  in, 
and  with  the  energy,  the  courage  and  intelligence 
that  concentrate  at  Cheyenne,  miracles  of  improve- 
ment may  be  wrought  till  beauty  shall  take  the 
place  of  dreariness,  and  shade  of  glare,  and  fruit- 
fulness  of  sterility,  and  the  "  wilderness  shall  blossom 
as  the  rose." 

It  was  a  matter  of  surprise  to  me,  the  amount 
of  feeling  with  which  I  parted  with  some  of  my 
fellow-travellers  at  Cheyenne.  The  same  number 
of  hours    in  a  palace-car   on    any    one    of  the   old 


36  COLORADO. 


routes  in  the  Eastern  States  would  never  have  given 
people  anything  like  that  sense  of  friendly  com- 
panionship. If  journeying  into  new  realms  of  this 
world  causes  us  to  draw  nearer  to  our  fellow-crea- 
tures, may  we  not  hope  that  on  going  into  an 
utterly  new  world,  alien  nations  and  peoples,  and 
even  rival  Christian  denominations,  may  come  to- 
gether and  fraternize  tolerably  well  > 

August  10. 

The  journey  from  Cheyenne  to  Denver  occupies 
about  five  hours.  The  Colorado  plains,  through 
which  this  Denver  Pacific  road  passes,  would  be 
dreary  enough  were  it  not  for  the  distant  view  of  the 
mountains  vouchsafed  to  us  most  of  the  way.  These 
plains  are  for  the  most  part  arid,  producing  little 
but  prickly -pear  cactus,  thistles,  white  poppies,  and 
wormwood,  and  supporting  nothing  but  antelopes, 
prairie-dogs,  and  their  reputed  fellow-lodgers,  owls 
and  rattlesnakes.  The  railroad  passes  directly 
through  a  large  old  dog-town,  an  object  of  particular 
interest  to  me.  I  was  immensely  amused  by  watch- 
ing the  smaller  canines,  the  mothers  and  children, 
scamper  away  and  hide  at  our  approach,  while  the 
grave  old  fellows  sat  up  on  the  mounds  over  their 


PRAIRIE    ABORIGINES.  37 


holes,  quietly  gazing  at  the  train  as  it  passed.  About 
one  large  mound  some  half-dozen  citizens  were 
gathered,  seeming  to  be  in  solemn  council,  perhaps 
discussing  the  Darwinian  theory,  perhaps  holding 
an  indignation  meeting,  and  denouncing  railroad 
monopolies  and  outrages  ;  for  I  understand  that  the 
right  of  way  through  their  ancient  borough  and 
their  fair  hunting-ground  was  not  honorably  pur- 
chased by  the  D.  P.  R.  R.  Company.  But  a  time  of 
reckoning  may  yet  come :  "the  dog  will  have  his  day." 
When  our  wise  and  goodly  men  of  the  Indian  Com- 
mission have  settled  our  little  border  difficulties, — 
have  made  the  amende  honorable  to  the  Ogalialla 
Sioux,  and  restitution  to  the  Arapahoes  for  all  their 
robberies,  and  soothed  the  lacerated  feelings  of  the 
Apache,  they  will  perhaps  turn  their  philanthropic 
efforts  toward  righting  the  wrongs  of  these  canine 
colonists  of  the  prairies. 

The  next  animated  object  of  interest  that  I  saw 
was  an  antelope,  standing  at  a  respectful  distance, 
and  watching  with  mild  curiosity  the  passing  of  the 
engine, —  that  strange,  snorting,  long-tailed  monster, 
that  had  thrown  antelope  speed  and  endurance  into 
the  shade.     A  young  Nimrod,  fresh  from  New  Eng- 

27v'2S2 


38  COLORADO. 


land,  deceived  by  the  rare  purity  of  the  atmosphere, 
lamented  that  he  had  not  his  rifle  handy,  as  he  was 
sure  he  could  have  brought  her  down.  But  an  old 
hunter  smiled,  and  said  she  was  far  enough  beyond 
rifle-range.  These  pretty  creatures,  since  the  great 
irruption  of  sporting  barbarians,  have  grown  very 
wise  and  wary.  Yet  nature  did  them  an  ill-turn 
originally,  in  affixing  to  them  a  mark  by  which  they 
can  be  seen,  and  "  a  bead  drawn  "  on  them  at  a  great 
distance.  It  renders  them  especially  liable  to  at- 
tacks in  the  rear  ;  which  reminds  me  of  a  little  story. 
A  small  Colorado  boy,  who  had  been  out  playing, 
ran  into  the  house  in  a  state  of  great  excitement, 
saying  he  had  seen  some  antelopes  in  a  gulch  near 
by.  At  his  entreaty,  his  mother  went  out  to  look  at 
them,  but  nothing  of  the  kind  was  found.  She  be- 
came incredulous,  and  said  at  last,  "  I  don't  believe 
you  saw  any  antelopes  ;  it  must  have  been  your 
imagination,  my  child  !  "  To  this  the  little  moun- 
taineer indignantly  responded,  "  I  don't  care,  ma,  I 
guess  my  imagination  is  n't  white  behind." 

The  settlement  of  most  interest  to  me  after  Dog- 
town  on  this  road  was  Greeley.  This  is  a  really 
wonderful   place.     Established  on   a  purely  agricul- 


THE    TOWN    OF    GREELEY.  39 

tural  basis,  with  an  inexhaustible  capital  of  intelli- 
gence, energy,  economy,  and  industry,  it  has  thriven 
steadily,  constantly,  with  no  wild  leaps  of  specula- 
tion, or  fever-heats  of  ambition  and  greed.     With  an 
orderly  and  virtuous  population,  it  has  had  to  pass 
through  none  of  the  dark  and  dire  and  tempestuous 
scenes  of  pioneer  life,  such  as  are  found  in  mountain 
mining  towns.     Though  it  has  had  its  hardships  and 
discouragements,   on    the  whole    its    experience   has 
been  exceptionably  happy.      The  site  of  the  town 
is  a  delta  formed  by  the  South  Platte  and  Cache- 
la-Poudre   Rivers,  affording  the    amplest   means  for 
that  beautiful  system  of   irrigation  which  is  rapidly 
transforming  a  barren  region  into  a  vast  garden  of 
verdure   and   bloom    and    fruitfulness.     New   as   the 
town  is,  and  with  its   share  of  the  inevitable  glare 
and   unsightliness    of    newness,    it   has   a   peculiarly 
cheerful  and  spirited   look.     The   irrigating   ditches 
about  Greeley  and  throughout  the  Union  Colony  are 
really  very  pretty,  fringed  as  they  are  with  verdure, 
carrying   currents    of  clear,   cool    water   on   blessed 
errands  to  the  generous,  responsive  soil.     I  saw  one 
of  the  ditching-ploughs  drawn  by  eight  yoke  of  noble 
oxen.     Trees  are  being  extensively  planted,  and  grow, 


40  COLORADO. 


like  the  crops,  astonishingly.  Were  I  a  man,  I 
would  rather  give  my  name  to  a  town  like  this,  and 
teach  such  a  brave  colony  what  I  knew  of  farming, 
than  be  President  of  the  United  States. 

This  young  city  of  the  plains  publishes  a  spunky 
little  weekly  paper  called  the  "Greeley  Tribune." 
The  title  is  an  exact  facsimile  of  the  philosopher's 
own  handwriting,  and  is  a  triumph  of  illegibility  cal- 
culated to  witch  this  new  world  with  noble  penman- 
ship. The  first  citizen  of  Greeley  I  saw  was  a  mule 
standing  on  a  bank,  looking  down  on  the  train  and 
over  the  town  with  a  patronizing  and  benignant 
air,  —  a  white-faced,  wise-looking  animal.  I  think 
this  must  be  the  very  mule  I  hear  of  as  the  great 
advertising  medium  of  the  place.  Being  of  vagrant 
habits  and  a  friendly  disposition,  he  perambulates 
a  good  deal,  overlooking  the  affairs  of  the  borough, 
and  so  they  have  taken  to  affixing  to  his  sides  bills 
and  notices  of  public  meetings.  He  is  a  sort  of 
travelling  bulletin-board.  When  Mr.  Greeley  comes 
to  lecture,  he  has  a  hard  day  of  it. 

From  Greeley  to  Denver  the  country  grows  more 
interesting,  and  the  mountain  and  river  views  more 
beautiful.     We  come  upon  richer  pasture  and  grain 


THE    MOUNTAINS.  4I 


lands,  and  finer  flocks  and  herds.  Ah,  such  im- 
mense stretches  of  grassy  plain  and  upland  !  When 
Mary  goes  to  "  call  the  cattle  home,"  she  goes  on 
horseback,  and  has  a  long  gallop  of  it.  We  could 
trace  the  water-courses  by  the  vivid  green  of  their 
banks,  and  we  saw  trees  of  size  and  in  tolerable 
abundance.  The  air  was  singularly  clear  that  after- 
noon, and  the  whole  grand  mountain  picture  above 
Denver  unveiled.  I  was  reminded  of  views  of  the 
Alps  from  Lombardy,  only  these  mighty  snow- 
capped heights  seemed  much  nearer.  Almost  con- 
stantly since  then,  envious  mists  or  the  smoke  of 
burning  tracts  have  hid  from  us  both  the  wooded 
and  rocky  sides,  and  the  snowy  summits  of  the  great 
elevations.  Even  the  foot-hills  are  often  invisible. 
It  is  very  warm,  and  I  am  resting  and  making  the 
most  of  Denver,  as  I  see  it,  in  afternoon  drives  with 
my  kind  and  hospitable  host  and  hostess,  and  through 
its  pleasant  and  great-hearted  citizens.  I  can  truly 
say  that  I  never  enjoyed  drives  as  I  enjoy  them 
here,  on  the  boulevards  and  plateaus  beyond  the 
town,  in  sight  always  of  scenery  as  beautiful  as  it  is 
stupendous.  There  comes  to  me,  with  a  sense  of  the 
vastness   of  my  surroundings,  a  feeling  of  freedom 


42  COLORADO. 


of  exultation,  and  exaltation  utterly  indescribable. 
And  then  the  air,  —  it  throbs  with  the  pulses  of  a 
new  life  !  The  air  of  the  morning  of  creation  could 
not  have  been  purer  or  richer.  The  winds  of 
evening,  though  sweet  and  balmy,  are  strong  and 
cool,  with  never  the  faintest  treacherous  sting  in 
them.  And  the  heat,  though  great  according  to  the 
thermometer,  is  more  endurable  here,  indoors  at 
least,  than  in  any  city  I  have  ever  been  in.  It  is 
never  sultry  ;  the  air  is  kept  constantly  fresh  and 
vital  by  beneficent  breezes. 

On  Saturday  night,  for  a  "lark,"  we  all  went  to 
the  circus.  It  was  a  California  circus  in  incep- 
tion and  development,  and,  like  most  things  belong- 
ing to  that  great  country,  stupendous.  I  am  sure  I 
never  saw  such  magnificent  performances,  equestrian 
and  acrobatic,  and  I  have  always  had  a  Dickensy 
weakness  for  the  ring,  —  for  the  sawdust  and  the 
tinsel,  and  the  hoops  and  the  hurdles ;  for  the 
piebald  horses,  and  the  riders,  so  bold  and  dashing, 
yet  so  serenely  grave  ;  and  the  clown,  with  his 
ancient  jokes  ;  and  the  ring-master,  with  his  eternal 
circular  tramp,  and  his  whip  of  infinite  crackiness. 
In  London  I  sought  Astley's  before  Covent  Garden. 


A    CALIFORNIA    CIRCUS.  43 

By  far  the  most  accomplished  performers  that 
night  were  women,  in  especial  two  blondes,  who 
did  the  most  daring  and  astonishing  things  on 
the   trapeze,  and    on    the    tapis,    as     acrobats,    and, 

0  heavens,  as  tumblers !  It  was,  to  me,  very 
dreadful,  —  a  revolting,  almost  ghastly  exhibition 
of  woman's  rights.  An  old-fashioned  conservative 
could  not  have  been  more  shocked  when  Elizabeth 
Blackwell  went  into  medicine,  and  Antoinette 
Brown  into  divinity,  than  I  was  at  seeing  these 
women,  in  horrible  undress,  swinging,  and  tumbling, 
and  plunging  heels  over  head  out  of  their  sphere. 
Still,  it  was  something  to  see  that  women  could 
be  so  courageous,  so  skillful,  and  so  strong,  —  could 
attain  such  steadiness  of  nerve  and  firmness  of 
muscle,  —  and  still  retain,  with  all  their  tremendous 
physical  exertions,  the  beauty  and  grace  of  their 
forms  and  all  the  fullness  and  soft  curves  of  youth  ! 

1  had  unmixed  delight  in  the  wonderful  riding, 
skill  and  daring,  quiet  confidence  and  matchless 
physical  strength,  of  a  young  California  girl,  called 
Polly  Lee.  She  managed,  with  the  utmost  ease 
and  grace,  four  horses,  having  four  younger  brothers 
and  sisters  swarming  all  over  her.  She  supports,  in 
more  ways  than  one,  the  whole  family. 


44  COLORADO. 


But  the  sight  of  sights  was  the  crowd  of  spec- 
tators,—  between  two  and  three  thousand  people, 
of  all  classes  and  races,  —  rougher,  freer,  noisier 
than  any  pleasure-seeking  crowd  I  had  ever  before 
looked  upon,  yet  good-humored  and  merry,  and 
sufficiently  orderly  for  jolHty.  When  in  the  early 
part  of  the  evening  there  came  up  a  sudden  thun- 
der-shower, and  the  rain  beating  in  on  the  upper 
tier  of  benches  drove  hundreds  down  to  the  circle, 
just  outside  the  ring,  though  there  was  a  wild 
scene  for  a  time,  and  some  confusion,  there  was  no 
strife,  no  accident  of  any  kind.  After  the  per- 
formance the  fun  was  most  uproarious  over  the 
drawing  of  the  prizes, —  fifty  in  number,  mostly 
worthless.  I  held  all  the  evening  a  delusive  bit  of 
paper  in  my  hand,  received  at  the  door,  and  rep- 
resenting alternately,  to  my  fond  fancy,  "  a  valuable 
watch "  and  "  a  fine  calf."  But  my  star  was  not 
in  the  ascendant  in  this  strange  sky.  The  watch 
went  ticking  off  in  the  pocket  of  a  modest  young 
miner,  who  made  good  time  out  of  the  ring  before 
a  whirlwind  of  yells.  The  calf  alone  remained.  It 
was  iveal  or  woe  for  me.  Some  ten  minutes  of 
mingled  hope  and  fear,  and  I  saw  a  Denverite  lead 


DENVER     ON     THE     WING.  45 

the  prize  off  in  triumph,  "  amid  the  shouting  mul- 
titude." I  don't  beUeve  that  lottery  was  managed 
fairly ! 

Denver  has  been  much  written  about,  but  it 
always  keeps  ahead  of  its  chroniclers.  To  attempt 
to  describe  it  now  were  almost  like  shooting  at  a 
deer  running  or  a  partridge  on  the  wing.  Improve- 
ments are  constantly  advancing  ;  grading  is  being 
done,  and  buildings  are  going  up  in  all  directions. 
As  I  sit  at  my  writing  this  blazing  morning,  be- 
fore an  open  window,  I  hear  the  sound  of  the 
hammer,  the  trowel,  and  the  saw,  north,  south, 
east,  and  west.  The  town,  five  years  ago,  was  quite 
treeless  ;  now  it  is  well  planted,  some  houses  being 
quite  embowered  in  foliage.  Larimer  Street,  the  great 
business  centre  of  the  city,  is  a  marvellous,  inspir- 
ing sight  to  see  any  morning  or  evening,  a  mighty 
river  of  traffic  surging  through  it  continually. 

There  has  just  been  published  in  Denver  a  large 
Gazetteer  of  Colorado,  a  useful  book  for  visitors  and 
settlers,  but  hardly  needed  by  a  tourist  who  is  fortu- 
nate enough  to  be  under  the  same  roof  with  Mr. 
Byers  of  the  "  Rocky  Mountain  News,"  an  old,  young 
pioneer,  —  "a  '59-er."      What    he   does   not   know 


46  COLORADO. 


about  Colorado  is  not  worth  knowing  ;  and  he  is 
most  patient  and  gracious  in  imparting  knowledge. 
Bayard  Taylor  and  all  the  famous  tourists  that  fol- 
lowed him  drank  of  the  Byers  fountain,  and  still  it 
flows. 

The  town  is  crowded  with  tourists  and  invalids, 
and  I  sometimes  wonder  that  the  overtaxed  hospi- 
tality of  the  people  here  does  not  give  out.  But  no  ; 
these  men  and  women  are  suited  to  their  noble  sur- 
roundings. Hearts  expand  on  these  grand  uplands, 
and  even  rough  natures,  like  the  mountain  rocks,  are 
richly  veined  with  gold. 

August  13, 
Early  on  Thursday  morning  of  last  week  I  left 
town,  with  my  kind  host  and  hostess  and  their 
"  one  fair  daughter,"  for  a  modest  little  excursion  to 
Platte  Canon  and  the  famous  Red  Rocks  in  its 
vicinity.  This  canon,  which  shows  like  a  great 
notch  in  the  mountains  from  here,  and  is  a  most 
picturesque  feature  in  the  landscape,  might  well  be 
addressed  in  the  words  of  the  song,  which  commemo- 
rates somebody's  "beloved  eye,"  which  is  also  a 
"  star,"  "  thou  art  so  near  and  yet  so  far."  From 
the  breezy  plateau  above  the  city,  on  a  clear  day. 


HARVESTS    AND    STOCK    GRAZING.  47 


it  seems  scarcely  more  than  half  a  dozen  miles 
away. 

The  trip  was  one  of  great  interest  to  me,  and  even 
more  in  an  agricultural  than  a  picturesque  point  of 
view.  It  was  harvest  time,  though  the  grain  was,  for 
the  most  part,  cut  and  bound  in  great  bounteous 
sheaves  ;  they  were  gathering  it  into  barns,  or  stack- 
ing it  in  mighty  piles,  —  mountains  of  gold.  The 
beautiful  farms  along  the  Platte  and  Plumb  Creek 
have  produced  this  year  thirty  and  forty  bushels  of 
wheat  to  the  acre,  and  the  fairest,  plumpest,  sweetest 
grain  I  have  ever  seen.  On  the  vast  wild  pasture 
lands  above,  stock  was  looking  very  finely,  to  my  great 
surprise,  as  the  grass  looks  utterly  scorched  up,  and 
as  short  as  though,  like  the  hair  of  poor  Box  or  Cox 
in  the  farce,  it  had  been  cut  at  "  the  other  end." 
Yet  Colorado  farmers  tell  me  that  in  its  driest  and 
shortest  estate,  this  wild  grass  is  wonderfully  sweet 
and  nutritious,  and  I  know  it  must  be  from  the  con- 
dition of  the  flocks  and -herds  this  remarkably  dry 
season. 

All  nature  thirsts  and  pants  for  rain,  and  I  sup- 
pose it  must  come  before  long,  after  a  thousand  feints 
and   make-believes  ;    but   the   pure   dryness    of  the 


48  COLORADO. 


atmosphere,  through  which  flow  the  constant  cur- 
rents of  fresh  air  from  the  mountains,  is  a  wonderful 
and  beneficent  thing  for  me,  and  thousands  of  other 
invalids.  It  is  a  marvellous  change  to  be  delivered 
from  the  fear  of  "  the  night  air,"  —  that  invisible  beie 
noir  of  the  East,  —  to  feel  no  dampness,  no  chill,  no 
subtle,  malarious  taint,  to  be  able  to  be  out  in  a  gar- 
den or  porch,  or  a  city  balcony  or  mountain  rock, 
through  the  long,  grand  spectacle  of  the  sunset,  to 
watch  the  magnificent  cloud  pageantry  through  all 
the  changes  of  purple  and  crimson  and  gold  and 
deepening  violet,  to  watch  the  first  faint  gleaming 
and  the  slow  spreading  of  the  starr}'-  encampment  till 
all  the  bivouac  fires  of  heaven  are  lit. 

But  to  come  down  from  cloud-land  to  farm  life,  I 
was  surprised  at  the  ambitious  aspect  of  some  of  the 
new  farm-houses.  Ornamental  cottages  were  not 
infrequent,  and  green  blinds  and  balconies  and  gar- 
den arbors  made  their  appearance  now  and  then. 
One  of  the  oldest  and  richest  farmers  of  the  Platte 
Valley,  however,  still  lives  in  a  little  octagonal  stone 
house,  half  under  ground,  which  seems  as  though 
especially  built  to  defy  Indian  attacks.  This  farmer 
is  a  Norwegian.     He  came   here  eleven  years  ago 


WAR-CHIEF     OF     THE     PLAINS.  49 

with  nothing  :  he  is  now  worth,  in  land  and  stock, 
at  least  seventy -five  thousand  dollars.  All  these 
farms  are  well  irrigated  from  the  Platte.  All  present 
a  singularly  smiling  appearance  in  their  rich  garb  of 
green  and  gold,  and  in  contrast  with  the  brown,  bare 
uplands.  Not  much  fruit  is  yet  produced  in  Colo- 
rado, but  I  am  told  that  nearly  all  the  varieties  raised 
in  California  can  be  raised  here.  Little  attention  is 
paid  to  horticulture,  but  horsiculture  is  not  neglected. 
I  have  seen  many  fine-blooded  animals  in  harness 
and  under  the  saddle.  The  roads  are  admirable  for 
driving,  —  so  hard  and  even  that  both  horses  and 
carriages  are  easily  kept  in  good  condition.  But 
driving  is  not  pleasant  here,  except  in  the  early 
morning  or  evening,  not  only  on  account  of  the  heat 
and  dust,  but  because  of  the  excess  of  light,  the 
dazzling  brilliance  of  the  atmosphere.  It  behooves 
one  to  look  out  for  one's  eyes.  Colored  glasses  are 
almost  as  much  needed  here  as  in  the  Alps. 

On  our  way  we  passed  the  little  old  cabin,  or 
"  shebang,"  of  Jim  Beckworth,  the  famous  moun- 
taineer, hunter,  scout,  guide  and  Indian  interpreter. 
Beckworth  was  a  mulatto,  born  a  slave  somewhere 
in  the  classic  region  about  Alexandria.  He  may 
3 


go  COLORADO. 


have  had  some  F.  F.  V.  blood  in  his  dusky  veins. 
He  ran  away  from  the  old  plantation  in  his  youth 
to  sow  his  wild  oats  in  a  richer  soil.  He  sought 
the  wildest  part  of  the  wild  West.  He  fell  in  with 
the  Crow  Indians,  who,  it  seems,  had  no  prejudice 
against  color,  for  they  made  much  of  him,  adopted 
him.  In  this  case  the  old  saying,  "  Every  crow  thinks 
her  own  young  the  blackest,"  did  not  hold  true. 
He  became  their  great  war-chief,  and  fought  along 
the  Missouri,  as  his  fathers  had  fought  along  the 
Niger.  He  was  as  savage  as  though  he  had  not 
enjoyed  Gospel  privileges  in  the  Old  Dominion,  or 
felt  the  chastening-rod  of  a  Christian  master.  But, 
at  last,  satiated  with  military  renown,  he  took  again 
to  roving ;  went  to  California,  Arizona,  Mexico,  — 
everywhere  that  siren  dangers  called  and  hardships 
allured,  seeking  fresh  bear-fields  and  buffalo-pas- 
tures new.  It  was  in  his  old  age  that  he  lived 
here,  as  grim  and  grisly  as  any  old  monster  of 
the  mountains  he  had  ever  hunted  down.  It  was 
from  here,  I  believe,  that  he  went  on  a  last  visit 
to  his  old  friends  and  followers,  the  Crows.  They 
received  him  joyfully.  They  entreated  him  not  to 
leave  them.     But  he   had    other   matters   on    hand, 


PRAIRIE     FARMS    AND     MOUNTAIN     GORGES.        51 

and  insisted  on  going.  They  then  made  for  him  a 
farewell  feast,  and  killed  the  fatted  buffalo  calf,  but, 
feeling  that  parting  was  more  bitter  than  death, 
put  deadly  poison  in  his  particular  dish.  "  They 
keep  his  dust  in  Crowland,  where  he  died." 

This  prairie  farming  country  is  a  singularly  silent 
land.  We  heard  no  whetting  of  scythes,  no  tink- 
ling  of  bells,  little  lowing  of  cattle  even,  or  crow- 
ing and  cackling  of  barn-yard  fowls  that  day. 
There  being  so  few  trees  along  our  way,  we  heard 
no  birds ;  indeed,  we  missed  nearly  all  the  usual 
pleasant  rural  sounds,  though  occasionally  we 
heard  a  mule  bray,  a  teamster  swear  at  his  oxen, 
and  at  noon  farm-hands  and  railroad -men  called 
to  their  dinner  by  a  joyful  shout  of  "  Grub-pile  !  " 
We  dined  with  some  hospitable  farmers  from 
Pennsylvania,  and  then  pushed  on  eight  or  ten 
miles  to  another  farm-house,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  cafion.  After  taking  a  brief  rest,  and  re- 
ceiving a  cordial  invitation  to  spend  the  night,  we 
started  on  our  exploration.  We  could  drive  but  a 
short  distance  up  the  cafion,  and  we  bravely  pro- 
posed to  do  the  grand  gorge  on  foot  for  several 
miles.     But  our  resolution  melted  away  in  the  fierce 


52  COLORADO. 


sun  ;  briers,  prickly -pears,  pebbles,  and  sharp  rocks 
were  too  much  for  our  enthusiasm  and  shoe-leather. 
In  short,  we  ingloriously  abandoned  our  explora- 
tions, and  made  up  our  minds  that  there  was 
nothmg  worth  seeing  in  the  canon  ahead  of  us. 
After  sitting  for  an  hour  or  two  on  the  rocks,  in 
a  shady  spot,  alternately  fishing  and  shying  stones 
into  the  river,  we  returned  to  the  ranch,  —  to  rest 
and  shade  and  a  royal  supper. 

Mr.  Lehow,  our  host,  is  a  Pennsylvania  farmer 
of  the  most  intelligent  sort,  and  higher  praise 
could  not  be  bestowed  on  a  husbandman.  He  is 
not  weaned  from  the  old  Keystone  State,  even  by 
good  health  and  good  fortune  in  Colorado,  and,  I 
fear,  believes  that  good  Pennsylvanians  will  go  to 
Philadelphia  when  they  die,  even  from  Golden  City 
or    The   Garden  of  the  Gods. 

Mr.  Lehow's  pleasant  little  farm-house,  wherein 
many  a  weary  pilgrim  has  found  welcome,  lies  in 
a  green,  fruitful  nook  with  a  glorious  lookout  up 
the  dark  caiion,  on  the  mountains  and  picturesque 
Red  Rocks,  and  over  the  rolling  prairie.  So  much 
taste  is  evident  in  the  selection  of  this  homestead, 
and  in  the  planting  of  trees  about   it,  that  one  is 


A     FORESHADOWING     OF     CRIME.  53 

not  surprised  to  find  within  the  cottage  comforts 
and  even  elegances,  with  a  family  circle  of  rare 
intelligence,  —  good  Republicans  all,  and  readers 
of  good  books. 

The  sunset  was  magnificent,  and  the  twilight 
long  and  delicious  as  anything  in  the  Italian  line. 
We  sat  on  the  porch  till  nearly  ten  o'clock,  pre- 
paring ourselves  for  sweet  sleep  and  pleasant 
dreams  by  talk  about  the  Westfield  disaster,  the 
great  New  York  riot,  and  the  iniquities  of  the 
Tammany  Ring,  wild  stories  of  frontier  life,  of 
Indian  massacres,  of  murders  and  robberies  and 
lynchings.  It  was  so  comfortable  to  remember 
that  all  these  dreadful  things  were  a  great  way 
off,  or  a  great  while  ago,  —  that  we  and  the  fine 
horses  and  cattle  we  could  dimly  see,  sauntering 
about  in  the  starlight  or  lying  at  rest,  were  safe, 
utterly  safe.  Yet  but  a  few  miles  away  from  that 
quiet  pastoral  scene,  at  that  very  hour,  in  a  farm- 
yard, on  the  high  road,  a  fearful  crime  was  being 
committed.  A  German  farm-hand,  after  killing  his 
employer,  shooting  his  head  almost  away,  called 
out  that  employer's  sister,  the  only  other  person 
about  the  ranche,  and  treacherously  shot  her  down. 


54  COLORADO. 


All  night  long  the  wretched  woman  remained  in 
the  house,  into  which  she  had  crept,  alone,  with 
a  handful  of  buckshot  in  her  breast,  afraid  to  move 
or  cry,  lest  the  murderer  should  find  she  was  not 
dead,  and  return  to  finish  his  work.  In  the 
morning  she  dragged  herself  to  the  nearest  neigh- 
bor's house,  a  mile  away,  and  was  brought  to  the 
city,  where  she  still  lies  slowly  dying.  It  was  not 
till  the  afternoon  that  her  brother  was  found,  in 
a  grain-stack,  quite  dead.  It  is  a  most  mysterious 
crime,  as  no  robbery,  except  the  theft  of  a  horse, 
was  attempted,  and  the  murderer  himself,  who  was 
arrested-  on  Sunday,  can  assign  no  adequate  mo- 
tive. There  was,  or  had  been,  a  good  deal  of 
domestic  infelicity  in  that  farm-house,  for  its  size ; 
and  a  husband  abused  and  dispossessed,  driven  out 
into  the  cold  by  wife  and  brother-in-law,  is  sup- 
posed  to   be    at   the   bottom  of  the   tragedy. 

In  the  morning,  which  was,  like  all  its  immediate 
predecessors,  glorious,  we  set  out  early,  forded  the 
Platte,  and  made  for  the  park  of  the  Red  Rocks, 
where  we  spent  an  hour  or  two  of  rare  enjoyment. 
These  rocks  are  grand,  picturesque,  and  peculiar 
masses  of  old  red  sandstone,  and  lie  in  an  almost 


RED     ROCK     PARK.  55 

regular  line,  and  in  every  variety  of  shape,  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountains  for  nearly  twenty  miles,  and  appear 
in  their  greatest  grandeur  and  profusion  in  the  Gar- 
den of  the  Gods.  They  sometimes  assume  immense 
massive  forms,  like  Cyclopean  structures  ;  then  lighter 
forms,  like  those  of  half-ruined  Gothic  architecture, — 
towers,  and  turrets,  and  keeps,  and  pinnacles,  —  some 
of  them  three,  four,  and  five  hundred  feet  high. 
What,  to  these,  were  old  Rhine  castles  or  the  ruins 
of  Kenilworth  and  Melrose  ? 

The  views  from  this  wild  park  of  the  Red  Rocks 
are  indescribably  beautiful.  A  spot  more  quiet  and 
lovely  for  a  summer  retreat  could  hardly  be  found, 
even  in  this  wonderful  mountain-land.  I  predict  that 
within  twenty  years  there  will  be  a  score  of  elegant 
cottages  here.  Perhaps  the  princes  of  Tammany  will 
retire  from  the  world  to  this  peaceful  spot.  But  I 
will  not  anticipate  evil  for  this  region.  Secluded  as 
it  is,  the  park  will  soon  be  easily  accessible  from 
Denver,  as  the  new  narrow-gauge  Denver  and  Rio 
Grande  Railroad  will  pass  within  sight. 

A  short  distance  down,  on  our  homeward  way,  we 
passed  a  low,  marshy  hollow,  containing  a  little  water, 
in  an  almost  black  pond,  which  reminded  me  of  the 


56  COLORADO. 


pool  in  which  Eugene  Aram  told  of  hiding  the  mur- 
dered man,  "in  a  dream."  Mr.  Byers,  who  knows 
this  country  as  Sir  Walter  Scott  knew  the  Highlands, 
and  can  point  out  the  scene  of  every  dark  legend  of 
the  early  days,  told  me  that  only  a  year  or  two  ago  a 
young  sportsman,  w^hile  duck-shooting  here,  was  shot 
and  scalped  by  a  roving  Cheyenne,  or  Arapahoe,  a 
savage  knight-errant,  who  knew  not  Vincent  Colyer 
and  had  not  "  come  in." 

A  few  miles  farther  on,  as  we  were  crossing  a  bridge 
over  the  Platte,  I  was  told  that  some  two  years  ago 
a  lady,  who  was  riding  over  it  alone  one  morning 
early,  chanced  to  look  over  the  railing,  and  saw  a  man 
hanging  by  the  neck,  the  dead  and  ghastly  face  up- 
turned.. It  was  the  body  of  a  notorious  horse-thief, 
who  had  been  caught  by  his  neighbors  and  summa- 
rily dealt  with.  We  shuddered,  and  thanked  God 
that  such  days  of  violence  were  over ;  and  yet,  a 
little  way  farther  on,  in  the  farm-yard  we  passed  un- 
consciously, there  lay  a  dead  face  blackening  in  the 
sun,  —  the  face  of  the  murdered  young  farmer,  dis- 
covered under  the  sheaves,  and  waiting  for  the  cor- 
oner. 

Yesterday's  event  and  sensation  was  an  excursion 


AN     EXCURSION.  57 


by  a  party  of  agricultural  editors  from  the  East,  on 
the  narrow-gauge  road,  from  the  city,  over  the  entire 
distance  the  rails  have  been  laid,  —  some  three  miles. 
I  hear  that  the  excursionists  —  a  brave  set  of  fellows 
—  went  off  quite  cheerfully,  taking  a  calm  leave  of 
their  friends,  —  indeed,  rather  hurrying  matters  to 
have  the  thing  over.  They  were  wonderfully  sus- 
tained, considering  that  "  no  wines  or  spirituous  liq- 
uors" were  allowed  on  the  train.  Their  agricultural 
report  of  the  region  through  which  they  passed  on 
that  memorable  excursion  will  be  looked  for  with 
much  interest. 

August  29. 

Soon  after  my  last  writing,  feeling  in  need  of  a 
little  dissipation,  I  ran  up  to  Greeley  for  a  three  days' 
visit.  The  morning  of  my  journey  was  the  hottest  I 
have  known  since  I  came  into  the  Territory,  and  the 
dust  was  something  fearful.  I  was  as  gray  as  a 
gopher  before  we  had  made  the  first  station.  The 
great  circus  company  was  on  the  train,  travelling 
like  common  mortals,  and  looking  strangely  quiet 
and  subdued.  The  wonderful  Lee  Sisters,  the  daring 
Polly,  the  dashing  Rosa,  who  had  seemed  such  bewil- 
dering, flying  visions  of  the  night,  in  blue  tarleton  lit 


58  COLORADO. 


with  starry  spangles,  had  an  air  of  weariness  and 
dejection.  Such  vain  and  hollow  and  unsatisfactory 
things  are  fame  and  the  applause  of  the  multitude  ! 
Even  the  trapeze  performers  seemed  oppressed,  per- 
haps by  too  much  costume;  and  the  clown  was 
pensive  and  sad,  as  though  haunted  by  his  old  dead 
jokes  that  "will  not  down."  The  "infant  gladi- 
ators "  presented  anything  but  a  classic  appear- 
ance ;  and  the  smallest  performer  of  all,  who  had 
seemed  such  a  cherub  in  tights,  showed  as  a  very 
ordinary  child  of  earth  in  a  dilapidated  blue-check 
pinafore.  In  short,  all  was  disillusion  and  dreari- 
ness. So  do  these  splendid  creatures  who,  like  the 
fairies,  dazzle  and  disport  at  night,  essentially  disap- 
pear at  morn,  leaving  only  a  magic  ring  to  prove  that 
they  've  "  been  yar."  The  only  unchanged  counte- 
nance in  the  party  was  that  of  the  stern  father  of 
many  acrobats  and  equestriennes,  who  trains  up  sons 
to  "  make  both  ends  meet,"  like  poor  government 
clerks,  and  throw  somersaults  like  model  politicians ; 
and  daughters  to  ride  a  two-horse  act  with  equine- 
imity  and  intrepidity,  and  move  in  the  difficult  and 
exalted  sphere  of  a  hoop  set  with  knives.  To  that 
Spartan  father  the  quiet  little  girl  at  his  side  was  but 


A   PRAIRIE   RIDE.  59 

a  small  female  centaur,  the  lively  baby  in  arms  but  a 
nursing  athlete  of  infinite  acrobatic  possibilities.  In 
the  worn  faces  of  all  these  unchildlike  children  there 
was  no  look  of  relaxation  and  relief  All  seemed  to 
say,  "  From  sawdust  we  came,  to  sawdust  we  must 
return." 

The  entire  morning  after  my  arrival  in  Greeley  I 
spent  in  driving  about  with  some  kind  friends,  and 
seeing  everything  of  interest.  We  drove  up  to  the 
head  of  the  great  irrigating  canal  in  the  Cache-la- 
Poudre  River.  The  drive  over  the  rolling  prairie 
that  breezy  morning,  with  the  green  track  of  the 
beautiful  stream,  and  the  grand  mountain  ranges  in 
sight,  was  very  charming  ;  and  not  the  least  of  my 
enjoyment  came  from  observing  the  fine  condition  of 
the  flocks  and  herds  all  along  our  way.  The  terrible 
prickly-pear  cactus  was  so  thick  that  I  could  not  see 
how,  without  iron-clad  noses,  the  poor  creatures  could 
graze  amid  it  ;  but  they  manage  somehow  to  pick  up 
a  good  living.  Wonderful  are  the  compensations 
Nature  grants  us,  even  in  her  most  harsh  and  nig- 
gardly moods.  This  ugly,  bristling,  ubiquitous  cac- 
tus of  the  plains  when  in  flower  makes  the  wild 
waste  one  vast  deep  blush  of  bloom.     Then  its  nutri- 


6o  COLORADO. 


tious  fruit,  much  like  the  mandrake  in  taste,  and 
even  the  pulpy  inside  of  the  plant  itself,  has  saved 
many  a  lost  or  belated  emigrant's  life.  They  tell  me, 
too,  that  the  antelope  uses  a  thicket  of  cacti  as  a  sort 
of  chevatix  de  /rise  when  pursued  by  prairie  wolves. 
With  cactus  on  every  side,  she  and  her  young  ones 
are  safe  from  their  soft-footed,  howling  besiegers. 
So  the  ugly,  bristling  patch  wherein  they  stand 
intrenched  is  to  the  antelope  family  pleasanter  than 
a  garden  of  roses,  —  is  a  prickly  pear-adise. 

The  principal  irrigating  canal  of  Greeley  is  said  to 
be  twenty-six  miles  long.  Branching  out  from  this 
are  countless  ditches,  each  of  which  calls  bloom 
and  verdure,  fruit  and  grain,  from  the  brown,  hard 
soil  that  has  lain  fallow  for  uncounted  centuries. 
Every  tiniest  shout  or  gurgle  of  the  swift,  clear  water 
is  like  a  trump  of  resurrection  to  the  dead  earth. 
They  have  almost  too  much  of  a  good  thing  here. 
They  are  intemperate  in  the  use  of  water.  They 
revel  and  riot  in  irrigation,  and  some  points  of  the 
town,  where  the  element  seems  to  "  wander  at  its 
own  sweet  will,"  bid  fair  to  produce  an  unparalleled 
crop  of  mosquitoes. 

The  growth  of  foliage  here  is  something  marvel- 


A   TEE-TOTAL   TOWN.  6l 


loLis.  Trees  which  in  June  last  were  bare  as  tele- 
graph-poles, now  wear  great  crowns  of  leafy- 
branches.  It  seems  like  the  miracle  of  the  Monk  of 
Innisfallen,  who  planted  his  old  staff  in  the  sand,  and 
it  leaved  out,  budded,  and  blossomed  on  the  instant. 
And  yet  they  call  Greeley  "a  slow  place."  Said  one 
traveller  to  another  on  the  cars  the  other  day  : 
"  Don't  stop  in  that  town  ;  you  '11  die  of  the  dulness  in 
less  than  five  hours.  There  is  nothing  there  but  irri- 
gation. Your  host  will  invite  you  out  to  see  him 
irrigate  his  potato-patch  ;  your  hostess  will  excuse 
herself  to  go  and  irrigate  her  pinks  and  dahlias. 
Every  young  one  has  a  ditch  of  his  own  to  manage  ; 
there  is  not  a  billiard-saloon  in  the  whole  camp,  nor  a 
drink  of  whiskey  to  be  had  for  love  or  money.  The 
place  is  a  humbug.  Its  morality  and  Greeleyisms 
will  bust  it  up  some  day." 

It  is  a  fact  that  Greeley  is  a  model  temperance 
town.  In  every  deed  given  for  land  is  inserted  this 
clause :  "  That  it  is  expressly  agreed  between  the 
parties  hereto,  that  intoxicating  liquors  shall  never 
be  manufactured,  sold,  or  given  away  in  any  place  of 
public  resort  as  a  beverage  on  said  premises ;  and 
that  in  case  any  one  of  these  shall  be  broken  or  vio- 


62  COLORADO. 


lated,  this  conveyance,  and  everything  herein  con- 
tained, shall  be  null  and  void." 

Bad  Tammany  politicians  will  go  to  Greeley  when 
they  die.  Yet  I  heard  a  curious  story  the  other  day. 
A  traveller  about  starting  for  Long's  Peak,  from 
Greeley,  wished  to  procure  some  whiskey  as  an  anti- 
dote for  the  bite  of  the  rattlesnake.  Of  course  it 
was  not  to  be  had  there,  but  he  was  advised  to  pro- 
cure instead  spirits  of  ammonia  at  the  drug-store. 
Thinking,  perhaps,  that  rattlesnakes  at  this  season 
might  be  uncommonly  thick  and  venomous,  he  had 
his  quart  flask  filled,  and  he  afterward  said :  "  Really, 
if  I  had  n't  known  better,  I  should  have  taken  that 
ammonia  for  whiskey,  and  as  good  whiskey  as  ever 
I  drank." 

The  women  of  Greeley  seem  to  me  to  have  great 
spirit  and  cheerfulness.  Yet  I  felt  that  with  their  new, 
strange,  wild  surroundings,  —  the  illimitable  vast- 
ness  of  earth  and  sky,  —  with  new  labors  and  hard- 
ships and  deprivations  and  discomforts,  —  with  the 
care  of  all  the  ditchers  that  cometh  upon  them  daily, 
—  they  must  be  discontented,  unhappy,  rebellious  ; 
and  I  tried  to  win  from  them  the  sorrowful  secret. 
I  gave  them  to  understand  that  I  was  a  friend  to  the 


COLORADO   WOMEN.  63 


sex,  ready  at  any  time,  on  the  shortest  notice,  to  lift 
up  my  voice  against  the  wrongs  and  disabihties  of 
women  ;  that  I  deeply  felt  for  wives  and  daughters 
whom  tyrant  man  had  dragged  away  from  comfort- 
able Eastern  homes,  neighborly  cronies,  and  choice 
Gospel  and  shopping  privileges.  But  the  perverse 
creatures  actually  declared  that  they  were  never  so 
happy  and  so  healthy  as  they  are  here,  right  on  the 
edge  of  the  great  American  Desert ;  that  they  live 
in  the  sure  hope  of  soon  having  more  than  the  old 
comforts  and  luxuries  around  them  ;  that,  in  short, 
the  smell  of  the  "  flesh-pots  of  Egypt "  has  gone  clean 
out  of  their  nostrils. 

In  fact,  I  find  Colorado  women  everywhere,  on 
mountain  or  plain,  in  town  or  ranch,  singularly  cour- 
ageous and  cheery,  and  I  think  that  the  cause  in 
great  part  lies  in  their  excellent  health.  The  pioneer 
women  of  Michigan,  Indiana,  and  IlHnois  had  in 
their  time  to  endure  similar  hardships  and  privations, 
with  ague  and  fevers  thrown  in.  The  spirit  shook 
with  the  body  ;  when  the  liver  gave  out,  the  heart 
soon  failed. 

If  I  was  astonished  at  the  buildings,  fields,  and 
gardens  of  this  year-and-a-half-old  colony,  I  was  more 


64  COLORADO. 


astonished  at  the  sight  of  the  colonists,  as  I  beheld 
them  one  night  gathered  in  the  Town  Hall.  There 
were  so  many  of  them,  and  they  formed  so  gay  and 
smiling  a  crowd,  that  I  almost  looked  for  the  trap- 
doors, up  which  it  seemed  they  must  have  come 
like  the  fairy  folk  in  a  Christmas  spectacle  ;  yet  they 
looked  like  anything  but  fairies,  —  good,  solid,  ear- 
nest men  and  women,  and  stalwart  lads  and  bloom- 
ing girls.  The  faces  of  the  men  showed  that  they 
took  the  great  New  York  journals,  and  were  alive 
to  all  the  issues  of  the  day ;  and  the  fashions  of 
the  ladies  showed  that  "  Harper's  Bazar "  had  found 
its  way  to   their  new  homes. 

Greeley  is  supposed  to  be  essentially  a  "  Tribune  " 
community,  or,  for  short,  a  Tribunity ;  but,  though 
doubtless  honoring  their  illustrious  godfather,  that 
their  days  may  be  long  in  the  land  they  have  irrigat- 
ed, these  colonists  are  people  of  independent  thought 
and  action,  having  their  own  ideas  on  morals,  rehgion, 
and  politics,  and  even  on  questions  of  amnesty,  suf- 
frage, and  farming ;  very  few  of  the  colonists  are 
agriculturists  "  to  the  manner  born  "  ;  most  are  pro- 
fessional men.  One  whom  I  had  seen  last  in  college, 
I  found  moulding  adobe  brick  with  his  own  hands. 


COLONIES.  65 


I  don't  believe  that  he  turned  out  a  poorer  adobe 
article  for  knowing  Latin  and  Greek.  His  fair  wife, 
from  a  four-months-old  garden,  had  produced  fifty 
varieties  of  pink,  besides  hosts  of  other  flowers.  She 
says  Nature,  in  this  regenerated  and  baptized  soil, 
seems  resolved  to  make  up  for  lost  time  by  pi'oducing 
flowers  in  matchless  profusion  and  brilliance  of  color- 
ing. But  it  seems  to  me  that  she  sends  them  out  in 
such  haste,  that  she  forgets  to  scent  them.  They 
rather  lack  fragrance. 

I  have  said  a  good  deal  about  Greeley,  not  because 
I  am  particularly  interested  in  it,  but  because  I  be- 
lieve in  the  colony  system  out  here,  and  this  is  the 
only  one  I  have  yet  visited.  I  am  told  that  the  Chi- 
cago Colorado  Colony  at  Longmont  has  a  situation 
of  unrivaUed  beauty,  is  in  the  best  of  hands,  and 
"  flourishes  like  a  green-bay  tree,"  or  a  young  cotton- 
wood.  The  St.  Louis  Colony,  whose  head-quarters 
are  at  Evans,  a  few  miles  this  side  of  Greeley,  is  also 
full  of  promise,  agriculturally  and  morally.  It  is 
young,  but  after  the  success  of  Greeley  and  Long- 
mont it  has  no  doubtful  experiment  to  try.  I  am 
sorry  it  has  not  followed  a  good  example  in  adopting 
a  temperance  constitution, 

E 


66  COLORADO. 


If  you  question  Colorado  settlers  anywhere 
about  those  pests  of  the  plains,  alkali  and  rattle- 
snakes, they  will  answer  like  Michigan  people  about 
fever  and  ague,  and  Mississippi  River  people  about 
mosquitoes,  "  None  here,  but  a  little  farther  on 
look  out." 

I  always  inquire  about  the  rattlesnake,  for  the 
subject,  like  the  reptile,  has  for  me  a  fearful  fas- 
cination. I  came  out  to  this  Territory  with  almost 
a  foreknowledge  that  I  should  encounter  one  on 
his  native  heath.  I  never  see  a  prairie-dog,  sit- 
ting at  the  door  of  his  little  house,  without  think- 
ing of  the  horrible  parlor-boarder  below. 

I  started  on  our  excursion  to  Platte  Canon  the 
other  day  with  a  presentiment  which  amounted  to 
a  moral  certainty  that  I  should  see  a  rattlesnake. 
I  believe  in  presentiments, 

"  Believing  that  they  are 
In  mercy  sent,  to  warn,  restrain,  prepare." 

This  hung  about  me  all  day.  I  knew  it  must 
come,  —  a  sight,  at  least  of  the  deadly  creature. 
At  last,  while  following  a  narrow  trail  up  the 
canon,  by  a  mysterious  sort  of  mental  illumination 


NARROW   GAUGE,  67 


I  saw,  just  around  a  point,  a  large  flat  rock,  and 
on  that  rock,  coiled  and  ready  to  strike,  the  snake ! 
Yet  I  did  not  turn  back  ;  I  only  went  forward 
more  slowly  and  cautiously,  all  sense  resolved 
into  sight  and  hearing.  I  rounded  the  point,  and 
there,  just  as  I  had  foreseen  it,  I  found  the  flat 
rock,  but  not  the  snake. 

September  4. 
I  should  have  chronicled  some  time  ago  an  ex- 
cursion on  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  Narrow- 
gauge  Railway.  We  went  out  about  fifteen  miles,  — 
as  far  as  the  rails  were  then  laid.  It  was  a  charm- 
ing day.  We  had  a  pleasant  company  of  citizens 
and  tourists,  and  all  went  "  merry  as  a  marriage- 
bell,"  in  the  old  days,  when  marriages  were  of 
some  account.  On  this  railway  you  are  struck 
at  once  with  the  reduced  proportions  of  every- 
thing,—  from  the  locomotive,  which  seems  like  a 
small  variety  of  "  the  iron-horse,"  a  fiery  little 
Mustang,  to  the  windows  and  lamps  in  the  cars. 
The  cars  themselves  are  bright,  pretty,  diminutive 
affairs,  cosey  and  comfortable.  It  seems  like  playing 
at  railroading,  especially  as  there  is  marvellously 
little  noise  or  motion.     Never  have  I  known  a  train 


68  COLORADO. 


glide  along  so  smoothly  and  quietly.  The  little 
engine  "  buckled  right  down  to  her  work,"  like 
Chiquita,  and  made  no  ado  about  it  for  several 
miles,  when,  I  grieve  to  say,  she  suddenly  balked 
and  had  to  be  "  switched."  We  took  another  horse, 
and  went  on  merrily  to  the  end  of  the  road.  Here 
we  all  alighted,  and  watched  the  men  laying  rails 
and  driving  spikes.  The  remorseless  officers  of  the 
road  insisted  on  my  paying  my  way  by  driving  a 
spike.  It  was  a  cruel  tax  on  my  "  muscular  Chris- 
tianity." The  newspaper  report  said  that  I  "drove 
that  spike  home  triumphantly."  But  I  really  thought 
it  "  would  n't  go  home  till  morning." 

This  narrow-gauge  road,  when  finished  to  El  Paso, 
will  be  a  wonderful  route,  for  pleasure  as  well  as 
commerce,  as  it  will  be  almost  unrivalled  for  vari- 
ety and  grandeur  of  scenery.  The  mountain  views, 
the  pictures  of  river  and  park  and  plain,  between 
Denver  and  Colorado  City,  are  especially  magnifi- 
cent. 

On  the  24th  ultimo  I  started  for  a  four  days'  tour 
among  the  mountains,  with  some  kind  and  hos- 
pitable friends.  We  went  first,  by  rail,  some  fif- 
teen miles  to  Golden    City,  — "  Golden,"   for    short, 


GOLDEN   CITY.  69 


—  which  I  found  very  picturesquely  situated,  backed 
by   mountains,    and  barricaded,  except   at  a    grand 
natural  gateway,  by  high  rocks,  some  like  palisades, 
some  of  a  peculiar  castellated  form.     Though  Gol- 
den   is   a   mining   town,   its  mines  are  not  of  gold 
or  silver  or  copper,  but  of  coal.     These  lie  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  town,  and  are  said  to  be 
of  excellent  quality.     Golden  is  also  a  manufactur- 
ing town.     It   has   fine  water-power,  running   flour- 
mills,  a  paper-mill,  a  tannery,  foundry,  pottery,  and 
several  brick-yards.     At  present,  the  town  has,  not- 
withstanding its  grand  and  picturesque  surroundings, 
a  bare   and  desolate  aspect,  owing  to  the   lack    of 
foliage.     They  have  but  lately  had  water  enough  to 
make  the  growth  of  even   the   cottonwood  possible. 
Now  that  they  have  built  aqueducts,  and  dug  ditches, 
and  made  a  requisition  on  Clear  Creek  to  supply  their 
deficiencies,  there  is  a  fair  prospect  of  gardens  and 
boulevards   that   will    utterly    transform    this   brown 
and  arid  spot,  and  make  it  worthy  its  enticing  name. 
Clear   Creek  is  a   misnomer.     Its   once  translucent 
current  has  of  late  years  been  roiled  and  spoiled  by 
gulch-mining  and  crushing-mills  in  the  mountains. 
There  is  a  wild  Golden  legend  that  tells  how  that 


70  COLORADO. 


venerated  friend  of  Colorado,  Hon.  Horace  Greeley, 
once  came  near  losing  his  valuable  life  in  Clear  Creek. 
A  vicious  mule  flung  him  off,  right  into  the  muddy- 
torrent.  He  recovered  himself,  and  calmly  waded 
ashore  ;  but  he  lost  his  hat.  That  also  was  finally 
recovered  ;  but,  alas  !  it  was  white  no  more. 

The  first  college  of  the  Territory,  Jarvis  Hall,  a 
fine,  picturesque  edifice,  with  a  grand,  airy  situation 
(it  was  blown  down  one  night),  is  at  Golden.  It  is 
under  the  especial  patronage  of  Bishop  Randall,  and 
is  an  excellent  institution. 

Here  is  the  present  terminus  of  the  Colorado  Cen- 
tral Railroad,  and  from  this  point  they  are  now  work- 
ing on  the  new  narrow  gauge  up  Clear  Creek  Caiion, 
to  Black  Hawk  and  Central.  This  road  is  to  be  fin- 
ished next  summer,  and  will  be  an  incalculable  benefit 
to  both  the  mining  and  agricultural  interests  of  the 
Territory.  Captain  Fred.  Grant,  son  of  the  Presi- 
dent, is  doing  engineer  duty  on  this  road,  and  is  just 
now  stationed  at  Golden,  where  he  is  very  popular  ; 
winning,  in  fact,  "golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of 
people." 

Doubtless  this  is  going  to  be  a  great  place  in  the 
course  of  time,  busy  and  noisy  ;  but  at  present  it  is  a 


GOLDEN    TO    CENTRAL.  7I 

nice,  quiet  retreat  for  invalids.  It  boasts  a  fine  hotel, 
well  kept.  By  the  way,  the  landlady,  Mrs.  Abbott, 
was  once  a  passenger  in  a  stage-coach  which  was 
attacked  on  the  plains  by  a  band  of  chivalrous  Chey- 
ennes.  She  escaped,  with  several  arrows  sticking  in 
her  arms  and  shoulders.  These  romantic  mementos, 
these  primitive  relics,  should  doubtless  have  prompted 
her  and  her  friends  to  deal  gently  with  the  erring  red 
man,  but  I  don't  think  they  did. 

The  head  of  our  party,  Mr.  E.  M.  Ashley,  of  the 
Surveyor-General's  ofBce,  had  preceded  us  with  his 
carriage,  which  we  took  here,  and  travelled  the  rest 
of  our  way  with  the  utmost  independence  and  com- 
fort. 

A  little  way  out  of  Golden,  where  the  road  led  up 
the  bare,  bleak,  immense  foot-hills,  a  bright  vision 
flashed  by  us.  It  was  a  beautiful  young  lady  on 
horseback,  elegantly  dressed  and  mounted,  and  riding 
superbly.  In  that  wild  and  lonely  spot,  the  effect  was 
absolutely  startling.  The  road  from  Golden  to  Central 
formerly  led  up  Clear  Creek  Canon,  a  grand  route ; 
but  floods  rendering  that  impassable,  the  present 
mountain  road  was  constructed,  which,  though  less 
picturesque,  is  far  more  safe  and  easy.     Still  it  has 


72  COLORADO. 


its  grand  points.     From  the  summit  of  Guy's  Hill  you 
have  enchanting  views  onward  to  the   snowy  range, 
and  back  over  the  plains  ;  and  the  descent,  a  marvel- 
lous winding  way,  is  a  magnificent  piece  of  engineer- 
ing.    Indeed,  our  whole  drive  till  we  struck  Clear 
Creek,  in   the  neighborhood  of  Black  Hawk,  was  a 
succession  of  vast  and  beautiful  pictures.    The  moun- 
tain  roads  have  astonished  me  by  their  excellence. 
The   ascents   and   descents  are  admirably  managed 
everywhere.     I  was  agreeably  surprised  by  the  beauty 
and   profusion    of  flowers    and   foliage   on   our  way, 
though  in  too  many  places  the  mountain-sides   had 
been  ruthlessly  denuded  of  all  large  timber,  and  there 
were  here  and  there  dark,  desolate  tracts,  where  fire 
had  done  its  terrible  work.     We  saw,  as  we  ascended, 
few  signs  of  animal  life.     All  was  stillness  and  quiet ; 
not   a   mountain-sheep   or   young   lion    cheered   our 
sight,  not  a  wildcat   or   a   bear   enlivened    the    soli- 
tude.    Now  and    then    flocks  of  crows   flung  swift, 
black  shadows  on  our  way,  and  along  the  roadside, 
from  rock  to  rock,  "  leaped  the  live  lightning  "  of  the 
ground-squirrel,  and  the  shy  gray  gopher  darted  in 
and  out  of  its  hole  in  the  bank. 

By  and  by  the  holes  in  the  hillside  grew  larger,  and 


GULCH-MINING.  73 


I  was  told  they  belonged  to  human  gophers,  —  were 
the  marks  of  prospecting  or  the  mouths  of  tunnels, — 
and  I  knew  we  were  nearing  the  great  mining  region. 

At  the  point  where  the  road  enters  Clear  Creek 
Canon  all  beauty  ends,  for  gulch-mining  begins.  It 
were,  I  fear,  impossible  to  give  one  who  has  seen 
nothins:  of  the  kind  an  idea  of  the  fearful  transfer- 
mation  which  this  process  works  in  a  clear,  beautiful 
mountain  stream  ;  of  the  violence  and  cruelty  and 
remorselessness  of  its  course  ;  how  it  heads  it  off, 
and  backs  it  up,  and  commits  highway  robbery  upon 
it,  —  "  Your  gold  or  your  life  !  "  —  how  it  twists  it  and 
tortures  it,  and  dams  it  (no  profanity  intended),  and 
ruffles  and  roils  it  by  panning  and  sluicing  and  shaft- 
sinking,  till  its  own  pure  mother-fountain  up  among 
the  eternal  snows  would  n't  know  it ! 

The  sluices  which  abound  in  this  gulch  are  narrow 
wooden  channels  with  riffles  in  the  bottom,  up  against 
which  lurks  the  detective  quicksilver,  to  arrest  and 
hold  the  runaway  particles  of  gold  in  the  swift  water. 
About  once  a  week  the  water  is  turned  off,  and  the 
gold  collected.  Men  are  kept  at  work  carting  gravel, 
or  wheeling  it  in  barrows,  for  these  sluices.  In  some 
places  they  stood  knee-deep  in  water,  dipping  up  the 


74  COLORADO. 


precious  mud.  A  more  slavish  business  could  not 
well  be  imagined.  All  the  way  up  this  deep  gorge, 
on  each  mountain-side,  are  pits  and  tunnels  of  gold- 
seekers,  most  of  them  abandoned,  and  every  few  rods 
you  come  upon  an  idle  shaft  or  crushing-mill,  going 
to  ruin.  Many  of  these  are  but  proofs  of  individual 
failure,  lack  of  means,  courage,  or  capacity,  not  of 
the  absence  of  ore  at  those  points.  More  are  the 
monuments  of  stock-jobbing  and  all  sorts  of  swin- 
dling enterprises.  Many  idle  crushing-mills  belong 
to  companies  owning  rich  mines,  but  at  present  par- 
alyzed by  the  "  freezing "  operation  ;  some  few  mem- 
bers, or  one  member  owning  a  controlling  amount  of 
stock,  having  decided  to  stop  work  under  pretence 
that  the  lead  has  given  out,  or  does  not  pay.  Of 
course,  when  the  stock  becomes  satisfactorily  depre- 
ciated, these  clever  managers  buy  it  all  up,  and  after 
a  decent  interval  recommence  work.  They  can 
afford  to  wait,  the  gold  will  not  run  away.  Trans- 
actions of  this  kind,  not  taking  into  account  "  wild- 
cat" speculations,  have  done  immense  injury  to  the 
reputation  and  the  interests  of  Colorado.  But  there 
is  gold  here,  plenty  of  it,  in  spite  of  all  these  failures 
and  disasters  and  monstrous  swindles  and  mountain- 


A   SULPHUROUS   LOCALITY.  75 

ous  lies,  —  gold,  virgin  pure,  and  waiting  only  for 
honest  enterprise  and  manly  energy  and  constancy. 
She  waits  for  miners,  not  gamblers. 

Though  several  large  stamp-mills  are  at  work  in 
Black  Hawk,  I  believe  the  smelting  process  is  thought 
to  be  the  best,  as  saving  the  largest  percentage  of 
gold.  Hill's  smelting  works  are  the  most  extensive. 
In  a  large  yard  the  ore  is  first  subjected  to  a  desul- 
phurizing process.  Wood  is  piled  up  as  for  charcoal 
burning,  the  ore  laid  on  it,  and  covered  with  earth  ; 
then  the  wood  is  fired,  and  the  precious  mass  above 
compelled  to  render  up  its  unpleasant  ghost.  The 
smoke  of  its  torment  ascendeth  up,  and  chokes  the 
traveller  on  the  high  road.  There  is  something  fear- 
fully suggestive  in  that  dark  hollow,  with  its  never- 
quenched  fires,  and  those  columns  of  yellow,  suffo- 
cating smoke  ;  and  I  did  not  doubt  the  story  I  was 
told  of  a  drunken  man,  who,  having  wandered  in  here 
and  fallen  asleep,  awoke  in  the  sulphurous  atmos- 
phere to  gasp  out,  "  In at  last ! " 

Black  Hawk  is  built  on  the  little  space  of  Clear 
Creek  valley  that  mining  could  spare,  and  on  the 
sides  of  two  gulches,  —  Gregory  and  Chase,  —  all  torn 
and  tunnelled  and  riddled,  almost  tumbled  into  chaos 


76  COLORADO. 


by  miners  and  panners  and  crushers  and  smelters ; 
yet  still  the  place  had  for  me,  as  had  Central,  a  pro- 
found, almost  a  tragic  interest,  —  an  impressiveness 
far  beyond  beauty  of  scenery  or  pomp  of  architecture. 
Here  heroes  have  grappled  with  the  hardest  and 
dreariest  conditions  of  life  ;  have  wrestled  with  nature 
for  the  possession  of  the  secret  so  cunningly  hidden 
for  uncounted  centuries  ;  splendid  minds  have  bur- 
rowed in  these  tunnels  ;  great,  loving,  homesick 
hearts  have  toiled  for  love's  and  home's  sake,  down  in 
these  dark  shafts,  —  have  toiled  till  they  broke.  Rich 
as  is  all  this  wonderful  region  in  silver  and  gold,  it  is 
yet  richer  in  the  heroic  and  pathetic  elements  of 
human  life ;  in  the  strength  and  tenderness,  cour- 
age and  self-sacrifice,  whose  history  can  never  be 
written.  These  are  the  best  treasures  of  this  rude 
mountain  land  ;  no  human  assayer  can  value  them, 
no  scales  are  fine  enough  to  weigh  them :  impon- 
derable, yet  imperishable  are  they. 

Narrow  and  dingy  as  is  this  mining  town,  its 
people  are  making  a  brave  effort  to  give  it  a  look 
of  comfort,  in  pleasant  private  dwellings,  neat 
churches  and  fine  school-buildings,  perched  up 
against  the  mountain-side,  where  it  would  seem  no 


A   MINING   TOWN.  77 


building  larger  than  a  miner's  hut  could  find  lodge- 
ment. Scarcely  a  tree  or  shrub  is  to  be  seen,  or 
even  a  flower,  except  it  be  in  some  parlor  window  ; 
but,  as  we  drove  up  into  Central,  we  came  upon 
a  very  pretty  conservatory,  attached  to  a  neat  cot- 
tage. It  was  something  strangely  cheering,  yet 
touching,  in  the  universal  dreariness.  It  was  like 
a  stray  leaf  out  of  "  Paradise  Lost," 

As  we  drove  up  the  principal  street  of  Central, 
which  seemed  to  me  narrower  and  steeper  than 
almost  any  street  in  Edinburgh,  Old  Town,  Mr. 
Ashley  pointed  out  to  me  the  sites  of  the  famous 
Gregory  and  Bobtail  lodes.  The  latter  was  named 
in  memory  of  a  certain  unfortunate  ox  used  by 
the  original  miner  in  drawing  surface  earth,  in 
which  he  had  discovered  gold,  down  to  the  creek 
for  washing.  Would  it  have  comforted  the  poor 
animal  in  summer-time  to  know  that  his  abbreviated 
tail  would  be  thus  prolonged  in  history  ? 

Central  is  a  wonderfully  busy  and  interesting  place. 
Through  its  steep,  rugged,  and  narrow  streets  pour 
swift,  ceaseless  currents  of  travel  and  traffic,  — 
carriages,  stages,  loaded  carts  and  wagons,  trains 
of  packed   mules,  miners    in    their   rough,  but  pic- 


78  COLORADO. 


turesque  garb ;  mounted  drovers,  eager-eyed  specu- 
lators, sleepy-eyed  Mexicans,  sullen  Indians,  curious 
squaws,  sunburned,  lounging  tourists.  But  the  pic- 
ture were  somewhat  somber,  but  for  the  pleasant 
lights  given  it  by  groups  of  merry  children  and 
bright-faced,  handsomely  dressed  ladies.  It  is  evi- 
dent that  there  are  happy  homes  in  Central,  and 
churches  and  school-houses,  and  that  people  think 
of  something  beside  mines,  though  the  town  is 
built  on  Pactolean  gulches,  seven  times  washed  ; 
though  the  hills  above  it  look  like  the  walls  of 
gigantic  fortresses,  thickly  pierced  as  they  are  with 
tunnels,  like  monstrous  portholes ;  though  hundreds 
of  men  in  it  lie  down  to  prospect  in  dreams,  and 
rise  up  to  pan  or  dig  ;  though  for  many  the  gold 
fever  dries  up  the  very  juices  of  youth,  tinges  all 
life  with  a  fearful  moral  jaundice.  People  here, 
they  say,  mine  in  their  cellars  and  wells  and  back 
yards,  and  a  careful  housekeeper  examines  her  tea- 
kettle for  gold  deposits  once  a  week.  Gold  is  "  i' 
the  air "  in  dusty  weather ;  and  if  you  live  long 
enough  here,  you  may  "  eat  your  peck "  of  gold, 
instead   of  dirt  of  the  common  sort. 

Colonel  Frank  Hall,  the  secretary  of  the  Territory, 


"specimens."  79 


to  whom  I  fortunately  had  letters,  did  the  honors 
of  the  town  for  us,  —  took  us  to  the  Miners  and 
Mechanics'  Institute,  where  we  saw  rare  and  beau- 
tiful mineral  specimens ;  to  shops,  where  elegant 
jewelry  and  silver-ware  of  native  ore  and  home 
manufacture  are  sold  ;  to  the  banks,  where  we 
saw  both  silver  and  gold,  in  bewildering  quantities 
and  in  all  forms,  —  nuggets  and  bars  and  dust, 
and  in  the  ponderous  shape  in  which  it  comes 
from  the  crucible.  All  this  kindness,  and  much 
beside,  was  done  with  a  charm  of  finished  courtesy 
which,  though  it  did  not  "gild  refined  gold,"  made 
us  realize  that  there  was  something  in  Central 
better  than  gold. 

We  left  Central  about  midday,  and  reached  the 
new  mining  town  of  Caribou  before  sunset, — 
driving  leisurely  up  and  down,  mostly  up,  excellent 
roads,  and  feasting  our  eyes  all  the  way  on  beauty 
and  sublimity.  After  rounding  mountain  point  after 
mountain  point,  and  passing  several  thriving  mining 
settlements,  we  came,  almost  unaware,  upon  Caribou. 
This  wild  young  city  is  the  utter  opposite  to  Cen- 
tral. Though  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea,  it  is  in  a  broad,  deep,  bowl-like  valley, 


8o  COLORADO. 


green  and  beautiful.  Young  as  it  is,  —  scarcely  a 
year  old,  —  there  are  evidences  here  of  prevailing 
ideas  of  comfort  and  taste.  It  is  compact,  neat, 
and  homelike.  The  stately  evergreens  with  which 
this  region  abounds  have  not  all  been  ruthlessly  sac- 
rificed. Beside  almost  every  miner's  cabin  stands 
a  tall  pine,  like  a  sentinel ;  and  all  the  way  up  the 
valley,  on  the  ground  not  built  over,  are  lovely 
clumps  of  those  steadfast  comforters  of  a  wintry 
climate  and  a  "  weary  land."  The  whole  place 
looked  to  me  marvellously  cheerful,  as,  embowered 
in  unchanging  green,  it  smiled  back  a  brave  an- 
swer  to  the  threatening  glare  of  the  eternal  snows, 
a  little  way  above. 

Still,  to  me,  personally,  there  was  a  dreary  sense 
of  wildness  and  strangeness  here.  I  knew  not  one 
of  those  brave  miners,  of  those  heroic  women,  who 
had  set  up  their  tabernacles  here  in  the  wilderness, 
just  under  the  clouds  and  the  snow.  I  could  not 
think  that  a  soul  in  all  that  busy  community  would 
have  any  interest  in  me.  But  when  we  stopped  at 
the  pleasant  Planters'  House,  and  the  landlady,  a 
bright,  cheery,  cordial-looking  woman,  came  out  to 
meet   us,  and    said,  "I  am    glad  to    see  you,"    and 


THE    VANGUARD.  S^ 

spoke  of  having  long  ago  read  things  which  I  sup- 
posed were  long  ago  forgotten  by  all  the  world,  and 
which  I  had  tried  to  forget,  I  was  strangely  touched 
and  cheered. 

That  evening  we  sat  down  to  supper  with  a  good- 
ly company  of  "  honest  miners," —  men  in  rough 
clothes  and  heavy  boots,  with  hard  hands  and 
with  faces  well  bronzed,  but  strong,  earnest,  intelli- 
gent. It  was  to  me  a  communion  with  the  bravest 
humanity  of  the  age,  —  the  vanguard  of  civilization 
and  honorable  enterprise.  I  believe  that  Caribou 
is  remarkable,  even  in  this  wonderful  country  and 
time,  for  the  orderly,  moral,  and  intelligent  character 
of  its  people.  Born  after  the  evil  reign  of  excite- 
ment and  reckless  speculation  was  past,  mining  life 
here  is  sober  and  laborious  and  law-abiding ;  we, 
at  least,  saw  no  gambling,  no  drunkenness,  no  rude- 
ness, no  idleness.  A  New  England  village,  resting 
under  the  beneficent  shadows  of  the  school-house, 
an  Orthodox  church,  and  the  county  jail  could  not 
present  a  more  quiet  and  decorous  aspect.  At 
night  we  fell  asleep  amid  utter  stillness  and  peace, 
and  should  have  slept  on  till  morning,  but  for  the 
welcome  disturbance  of  sweet  music,  —  a  really  de- 
4*  F 


82  COLORADO. 


lightful  serenade.  We  were  almost  as  much  charmed 
and  bewildered  by  those  exquisite  strains  of  the 
violin  and  guitar,  which  seemed  to  us  to  come  out 
of  the  moonlight  and  the  soft  night-winds,  as  was 
Prince  Ferdinand  by  Ariel's  music,  in  the  wild  air 
of  the  enchanted  island.  And  yet  it  was  in  per- 
fect harmony  with  the  scene.  It  seemed  like  the 
shine  of  mountain-streams,  the  solemn  shadows  of 
pines,  the  glimmer  of  floating  mists,  and  the  purity 
of  snows  "  sparkling  to  the  moon,"  all  translated 
into  sound.  In  the  morning,  escorted  by  a  gallant 
young  miner,  who  won  all  our  hearts  by  perfect 
courtesy,  we  set  out  for  a  toilsome  climb  up  the 
mountain,  to  visit  the  great  Caribou  Mine.  The 
ore  of  this  now  famous  lode  is  exceedingly  rich 
and  practically  inexhaustible.  It  was  proposed  that 
I  should  descend  into  this  mine  by  the  shaft,  which 
is  now  sunk  more  than  200  feet,  but  my  enthusiasm 
was  soon  damped  by  observing  the  moist  and  muddy 
condition  of  the  ore  as  it  came  up.  So  I  went 
farther  up  the  mountain,  to  a  moderately  deep  and 
dry  mine,  which  I  bravely  descended  in  a  bucket, 
and  with  my  own  hand  chipped  off  a  bit  of  silver 
ore,  which  I  expect  my  posterity  will  piously  pre- 


A   MOUNTAIN   STORY-TELLER.  83 


serve.  It  is  all  of  that  sort  of  thing  they  are 
likely  to  receive  from  me. 

We  then  ascended  the  highest  point  in  that  im- 
mediate region,  which  was  thereupon  named  after  the 
one  of  the  party  least  deserving  of  an  honor,  which 
should,  I  think,  be  conferred  only  on  an  actual  settler. 
Nevertheless,  I  hereby  warn  all  miners  against  pros- 
pecting or  otherwise  trespassing  on   my  knob. 

On  this  last  ascent  we  were  piloted  by  Ulysses 
Pugh,  an  old  pioneer,  bear  and  elk  hunter,  and 
miner  of  course,  and  he  said  we  must  see  Samuel 
Conger,  the  hero  of  Conger  Mountain,  one  of  the 
discoverers  of  the  Caribou  lode,  practical  miner, 
and  ex-Indian  fighter.  So  we  went  to  the  shaft 
in  which  he  is  now  working,  and  Samuel  was  evoked, 
and  came  up,  like  Samuel  of  old,  —  only  by  a  rope, 
hand  over  hand.  Then  we  all  sat  down  on  the 
timbers  by  the  mine,  and  the  boys  quit  the  wind- 
lass and  stood  by,  and  —  but  how  can  I  describe 
the  scene  .''  The  sunny  slope  of  the  mountain,  all 
grassy  and  flowery,  the  murmuring  pines  and  whis- 
pering aspens  about  us,  the  lovely  valley  below, 
the  grand  heights  above,  the  deep  canon  of  the 
North  Boulder  at  our  right,  glistening  snows  to  our 


84  COLORADO. 


left,  and  underneath  us  silver  enough  to  furnish 
tea-sets  for  every  family  in  New  England,  and  pap- 
bowls  for  all  the  babies.  And  the  day,  —  just  warm 
enough,  just  cool  enough,  balmy,  beautiful,  benig- 
nant, perfect,  —  one  of  God's  own  days.  So,  to  sit 
there  idling  on  that  aromatic  log,  and  listen  to 
hunting  and  mining  adventures  and  Indian  stories 
which  were  the  real  thing,  and  no  make-believes, 
from  Samuel  and  Ulysses,  ah  !  that  was  "  richness." 
We  parted  from  these  two  at  last  as  from  old 
friends,  and  they  went  back  into  their  mines,  from 
which  may  they  come  up  some  day  rich  as  Eastern 
nabobs,  and  twice  as  jolly  ! 

Our  twenty  miles'  drive  to  Boulder  City,  over 
grand  heights,  through  lovely  little  parks,  and  wild 
pine  forests,  and  by  the  newly  opened  route  down 
the  North  Boulder  Canon,  then  thrilled  me  with 
wonder  and  delight,  and  now  fills  me  with  despair. 
I  know  it  is  utterly  indescribable.  I  have  seen 
nothing  in  America  that  has  so  impressed  and 
enchanted  me.  All  the  way,  height  and  depth, 
and  the  immensity  of  mountain  and  gorge,  —  sheer 
granite  walls,  and  massive,  castle-like  rocks,  —  are 
softened  and  shaded  and  glorified  by  beauty  incom- 


INDIAN    FIGHTERS.  85 

parable  ;  by  swift,  bright,  gurgling  waters  and  silver 
cascades,  and  by  luxuriant  foliage  of  every  imagin- 
able shade  of  green,  touched  here  and  there  by 
scarlet  and  gold  and  tints  of  ruddy  brown,  while 
every  shadowy  place  is  illuminated  with  flowers. 

Boulder  is  a  remarkably  pretty  town,  exquisitely 
situated,  just  under  the  foot-hills,  looking  out  on 
the  prairie.  It  is  well  watered,  and  is  in  the  midst 
of  an  agricultural  region  of  great  capabilities.  The 
Buttes — sharp,  bare,  rocky  elevations,  a  mile  or  so 
to  the  left  of  the  town  —  make  a  striking  and  pic- 
turesque feature  of  the  town  landscape.  On  the 
sharpest  of  these,  I  was  told,  the  Arapahoes  once 
"  corralled "  a  band  of  Utes,  and  kept  them  there 
several  days.  When  the  besiegers  undertook  to 
storm  the  heights,  which  their  arrows  would  not 
reach,  the  Utes  rolled  down  rocks,  and  so  kept 
them  at  bay  till  relief  came. 

By  the  way,  I  met  at  Boulder,  and  freely  con- 
versed with,  several  old  Indian  fighters,  —  men  to 
whose  hardy  valor  and  more  than  Roman  firmness 
hundreds  of  the  citizens  of  Colorado  to-day  owe 
their  safety  and  the  safety  of  their  property.  These 
frankly  acknowledge  that  they  were  in  the  terrible 


86  COLORADO. 


battle  known  to  us  as  the  "  Sand  Creek  Massacre " ; 
and  after  hearing  their  several  simple,  straightforward 
statements,  agreeing  in  every  essential  point,  I  should, 
had  I  been  doubtful  before,  have  been  convinced 
that  there  were  two  sides  to  that  dark  and  dread- 
ful story. 

I  fully  believe  that  these  men  felt  driven  by  an 
awful,  imperative  necessity,  when,  after  having  been 
almost  starved  in  their  mountain  camps  by  Indian 
depredations,  and  the  cutting  off  of  supplies,  after 
coming  upon  the  bodies  of  whole  families  of  their 
friends  and  neighbors  literally  chopped  to  pieces, 
after  having  bodies  of  murdered  women  and  chil- 
dren shown  in  the  market-places  of  their  towns, 
with  wounds  more  eloquent  than  those  of  Caesar, 
after  despairing  of  efficient  government  aid,  they 
undertook  that  long  winter  march,  surprised  that 
treacherous  Indian  camp,  and  made  short,  sharp 
work  in  dealing  with  its  inmates.  If  the  slaughter 
was  indiscriminate,  still  I  doubt  not  they  were  ac- 
tuated by  as  stern  a  sense  of  duty  as  ever  impelled 
to  deeds  of  vengeance  and  extermination  our  pious 
Puritan  sires,  whose  valiant  deeds  we  glorify  every 
Forefathers'  day. 


THE    SAND    CREEK    MASSACRE.  87 

Still,  I  will  add  that  these  Sand  Creek  men,  so 
frank,  so  manly,  and  withal  so  gentle  now,  were  guilty 
of  some  excesses  on  that  occasion.  They  fired  alike 
on  the  squaws,  who  stood  and  fought,  and  the  braves, 
who  ran  away ;  and  they  pillaged  as  well  as  slaugh- 
tered :  for  it  has  not  been  denied  that  they  took 
from  the  wigwams  of  these  "friendly  Indians," 
peacefully  camped  "under  the  protection  of  Fort 
Lyon,"  stores  of  coffee  and  sugar,  goods  and  bills 
of  lading  just  captured  with  trouble  and  peril  from 
trains  on  the  Platte,  and  took  also  greenbacks  and 
boxes  of  boots  and  shoes,  and  clothing  of  all  sorts, 
only  a  little  the  worse  for  wear  and  blood,  and  pre- 
cious relics,  scalps  of  white  women  and  children  not 
yet  dry.  One  soldier  confessed  that  he  brought 
away  a  delicate  pair  of  shoes,  a  woman's  shoes, 
which  looked,  he  said,  as  though  they  had  been 
filled  with  blood.  Another  soldier  has  ever  since 
preserved  as  a  memento,  but  has  now  given  to  me, 
a  gayly  painted  shield,  which  he  took  from  a  slain 
brave,  and  which  should  have  been  tenderly  buried 
with  him,  for  it  was  doubtless  a  precious  possession 
to  the  young  man,  being  tufted  with  many  eagle 
feathers,  and  especially  decorated  with  a  large  scalp  of 


88  COLORADO. 


fine,  soft,  brown  hair,  evidently  that  of  a  young 
white  girl.  But  really  now,  my  dear  friend,  if  those 
gory  shoes  had  belonged  to  your  mother  or  mine, 
and  if  that  beautiful  hair  had  been  torn  from  the 
head  of  your  dear  daughter  or  mine,  and  we  had  not 
been  prejudiced  in  favor  of  the  Indians,  we  should, 
perhaps,  have  thought  that  measures  of  retaliation 
and  protection,  somewhat  severe,  were  about  that 
time  justifiable.  In  our  human  weakness,  we  might 
have  said,  The  swifter,  the  sterner,  the  more  ter- 
rible and  thorough  the  punishment  for  such  deeds 
the  better.  We  might  at  this  day  be  less  hard  in 
our  judgment  on  the  desperate  men  pointed  out  as 
"  the  savage  leaders  "  in  that  massacre,  and  less  in- 
clined to  pen  savage  "  leaders "  against  the  poor 
harassed  settlers  of  Texas  and  Arizona.  All  through 
our  beautiful  drive  back  to  Denver,  over  those  soft 
rising  swells  of  the  prairie  which  merge  into  the 
billowy  foot-hills,  out  of  which  tower  the  mighty 
granite  waves  of  the  great  range,  —  through  all 
those  smiling,  peaceful  scenes,  I  carried  that  bar- 
baric shield,  a  hideous  memento  of  a  time  of  terror 
and  bloodshed  only  a  little  way  back  in  the  past. 
Every  now  and  then  those  soft,  girlish  locks  were 


BOULDER    TALK.  89 


blown  against  my  hand,  and  always  the  touch  sent 
to  my  heart  a  thrill  of  wondering  pity.  Poor  child ! 
"  Who  was  her  father  ?     Who  was  her  mother  ?  " 

That  night  the  strange  trophy  was  in  my  chamber, 
and  I  could  not  sleep.  I  seemed  to  be  alternately 
haunted  by  the  murdered  girl,  who  was  the  original 
owner  of  the  scalp,  and  by  the  bereaved  brave  to 
whom  it  had  belonged  by  right  of  conquest. 

Captain  Aikens  of  Boulder,  a  hardy,  handsome  old 
pioneer,  told  me  some  interesting  Indian  stories, 
which  I  regret  that  I  have  not  room  for  here.  One 
of  his  peculiar  expressions  amused  me.  Describing 
the  astonishment  of  an  Arapahoe  chief  who  came 
to  warn  him  away  from  his  mine,  and  whom  he 
in  turn  threatened  and  defied,  he  said,  "  Why,  you 
could  have  lariated  his  eyes ! " 

Another  miner,  while  gazing  on  a  friend  whom  he 
found  after  an  Indian  raid,  lying  by  his  cabin  dead, 
scalped,  and  stuck  as  full  of  arrows  as  a  St.  Sebas- 
tian, said,  mournfully,  "  Poor  fellow  !  he  has  gone 
over  the  range." 

Another,  on  seeing  a  bald-headed  stranger  ap- 
proaching the  camp,  exclaimed,  "  Hello,  boys  !  here 
comes  a  man  with  his  head  above  timber  line." 


9°  COLORADO. 


Idaho  Springs,  Col.,  September  9,  1871. 
I  left  Denver  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  by  stage 
for  this  celebrated  mountain  watering-place.     I  was 
an    outside    passenger,  —  indeed,   had   the   place  of 
honor   by   the   side    of  the   driver,  a   famous   Jehu, 
known    only   to    me    as    "  Hi,"    which    is    probably 
"short"  for  Hiram.     Along  the  wildest,  and  steepest 
parts  of  the  route   he  drove   six  fiery  steeds    in    a 
delightfully  reckless  style,  spinning  along  by  quite 
satisfactory  precipices.     Over  one  of  these,  he  told 
me,  his  leaders  once  fell  and  dangled  and  "screamed," 
and    he    alone    held    up    the   others   and    saved    the 
coach  !     How  is  that  for  Hiram  >     And  we  had  a 
"thunder-storm    in   the   Rocky   Mountains,"  which 
approached  as  near  the  real  thing  as  nature  can  get 
to   Bierstadt,    and    saw   real    Indians  lurking  under 
the   aspens  by  the  roadside.     It  is  true  the  storm 
was  soon  over,  and  the  savages  consisted  of  a  small 
brave  of  some  twelve  summers,  two  squaws,  and  a 
pappoose  ;  but  such  little  incidents  give  a  dash  of 
adventure  and  romance  to  travel  in  this  dull  country, 
where  there  are  no  railroad  disasters  and  no  brigand- 
age.    The  Indians  about  here  are  mountain  vagrants, 
belonging  to  the  "friendly  Ute  "   tribe.     These  are 


AN     INDIAN     GHOST     STORY.  9I 

they  who  rallied  to  the  protection  of  our  beloved 
Vice-President  and  his  party  against  a  threatened 
attack  from  the  Arapahoes  in  the  Middle  Park,  some 
three  years  ago,  and  who  afterward  gave  their  dis- 
tinguished proteges  rather  more  of  their  society  than 
was  quite  agreeable  ;  there  being  at  the  best  more 
of  the   Utele  than  the  diilcc  about  it. 

By  the  way,  a  pleasant  fellow-outsider  entertained 
me  that  morning  with  some  accounts  of  Indian  fights 
and  scares,  and  one  quite  singular  Indian  ghost-story. 
An  officer  of  the  commissary,  he  said,  related  that 
once,  while  on  a  business  expedition  to  one  of  these 
mountain  tribes,  he  was  sitting  at  night  in  a  wigwam 
with  several  chiefs,  smoking  and  conversing  amica- 
bly, when  suddenly  the  Indians  sprung  up  with  looks 
of  terror  and  ran  out.  He  followed  and  inquired  the 
meaning  of  the  stampede,  and  was  told  that  the 
ghost  of  a  lately  deceased  brave  had  appeared  in 
their  midst.  He  looked  back  into  the  wigwam  and 
saw  only  the  favorite  dog  of  the  departed  chief, 
which  was  behaving  very  strangely,  leaping  up  and 
fawning  on  the  air,  with  every  sign  of  canine  delight 
and  affection.  The  awe-struck  Indians  said,  '*  He 
sees  his  master." 


92 


COLORADO. 


How  they  saw  him,  when  the  white  man  could 
not,  I  did  not  learn,  nor  how  long  for  the  dog  the 
vision  lingered,  but  it  is  pleasant  to  think  that  the 
poor  animal's  loving  demonstrations  could  not  have 
been  cut  short  by  a  brutal  blow  or  kick.  I  think, 
if  I  were  the  dog  or  the  squaw  of  a  noble  savage, 
I  should  prefer  him  in  such  an  unsubstantial  shape. 

This  animal  seership  is  not  a  new  idea.  I  re- 
member a  beautiful  old  picture  of  the  "  Nativity 
of  the  Virgin,"  by  Murillo,  I  think,  in  which  no 
one  of  a  large  group  of  elderly  gossips  and  pretty 
maidens,  come  to  see  the  baby,  perceives  an  angel 
also  looking  on  with  mild  interest,  but  a  dog  evi- 
dently sees  the  celestial  visitor,  and  is  sniffing  in 
an   awe-struck  manner  at  his  cerulean  robes. 

The  fellow-passenger  I  have  referred  to  I  found 
a  refined  and  cultivated  gentleman.  He  came  to 
Colorado  several  years  ago,  fresh  from  Harvard, 
and  has  been  ever  since  engaged  in  mining  or 
superintending  a  mine.  Though  all  his  golden 
dreams  have  not  been  realized,  he  loves  this  grand 
mountain-land  too  much  to  leave  it.  Another  gen- 
tleman tells  me  that  in  some  localities  three  out 
of  five   of    the    practical    miners    are    college-bred 


IDAHO    ijPRINGS. 


93 


men.  Two  ex-professors  of  Yale  are  said  to  be 
mining  at  Caribou. 

Idaho  is  cosily  ensconced  in  a  most  picturesque 
valley,  on  the  south  branch  of  ubiquitous  Clear 
Creek.  It  is  still  a  modest  little  place,  but  it  has 
two  excellent  hotels,  and  the  sulphur  springs  and 
soda-baths  are  making  it  a  most  attractive  point 
for  invalids.  The  warm  swimming-baths  are  es- 
pecially delightful,  and  are  said  to  be  most  efficacious 
in  cases  of  skin  disease  and  rheumatism.  The  water 
is  singularly  buoyant  ;  one  would  find  it  difficult  to 
commit  suicide  in  it,  without,  like  Merdle,  calling 
in  the  aid  of  a  penknife. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  make  any  excursions,  or  to 
visit  any  of  the  mines  in  this  vicinity,  as  the  "  big 
rains  are  in,"  and  after  such  an  unprecedented  dry 
season,  we  can  hardly  count  on  fair  weather  very  soon. 
I  found  here  Mr.  and  Mrs.  S.  S.  Cox,  old  Columbus 
and  Washington  acquaintances,  genial  companions 
always,  but  now,  with  their  sympathies  quickened 
and  their  pleasant  wit  stimulated  by  deep  draughts 
of  the  new  wine  of  life  from  the  wild  vintages  of 
California  and  Colorado,  they  overflow  with  kindly 
feeling  and  joyous  spirits.      There  is  also  at  this  nice 


Q4  COLORADO. 


hotel  —  the  Beebee  House  —  a  delightful  family  from 
my  native  State,  who,  having  spent  a  whole  sum- 
mer here,  are  yet  unwilling  to  depart.  Everybody 
seems  friendly  here.  Very  slight,  sometimes,  are 
the  grounds  of  special  sympathy  and  acquaintance. 
Mr.  Cox  says  it  reminds  him  of  a  friendly  inn- 
keeper at  Alcantara,  who,  on  hearing  he  was  from 
New  York,  said,  with  generous  effusion,  "  Ah,  Senor, 
I  feel  acquainted  with  you!  I  have  a  friend  in 
Brazil." 

Idaho  is  thought  a  better  point  for  consumptives 
than  Georgetown  ;  but  I  think,  from  all  I  can  learn, 
that  such  invalids  should  not  come  into  the  moun- 
tains at  all,  but  stop  at  Greeley,  Denver,  Golden, 
or  Boulder,  or  at  a  lovely  place  among  the  pines 
called  "  Wilson's,"  about  half-way  between  here  and 
Denver.  The  very  quality  of  this  upper  mountain 
air,  which  renders,  it  almost  a  certain  cure  for 
asthma,  its  extreme  rarity,  makes  it  hurtful  to 
lungs  badly  diseased.  There  have  been  several  sad 
cases  this  year  of  sudden  deaths  from  hemorrhages. 
Invalids,  intoxicated  by  the  ethereal  purity  of  the 
air,  stimulated  by  scenery  so  new  and  grand,  led 
on  and  up   by  the  enticing   mysteries  of  mountain 


A     LAND     FOR     INVALIDS.  95 

gorge  and  torrent  and  lake,  and  by  the  splendors 
of  snowy  heights,  that  mock  and  yet  allure,  ex- 
haust themselves  before  they  are  aware,  and  sink 
with  fearful  rapidity. 

I  have  no  doubt,  however,  that  with  proper  care 
and  comfortable  and  quiet  living,  decided  consump- 
tive tendencies  can  be  overcome,  and  firm  health 
estabHshed  in  Colorado.  •  Bronchitis  and  sore-throat 
are  usually  cured,  but  catarrh  is  likely  to  be  aggra- 
vated, on  the  plains  and  foot-hills  at  least,  proba- 
bly by  the  dust  and  wind-storms. 

As  for  confirmed  asthmatics,  —  unhappy  men  and 
women  who,  like  shipwrecked  mariners  perishing 
of  thirst,  with  "  water,  water  everywhere,"  gasp  and 
fight  for  their  scanty  breath  in  a  world  of  air, — 
they  who  find  it  not  difficult  to  realize  the  suffer- 
ings of  men  suffocated  in  mines,  or  the  horrors 
of  the  "Black  Hole"  of  Calcutta, — they  who  once 
a  year  at  least  must  rehearse  the  death-agony, 
yet  cannot  die,  —  for  them,  brothers  and  sisters  in 
affliction,  I  have  to  say  that  I  do  not  beheve  there 
is  out  of  Heaven  such  a  place  as  the  mountain 
land  of  Colorado.  The  higher  I  have  gone  thus 
far,  the  better    it    has    seemed  for    me.     Even    the 


96  COLORADO. 


brief  dampness  which  here  follows  a  storm  seems 
not  to  be  hurtful,  so  unlike  is  it  to  the  harsh,  raw 
dampness  of  the  East  and  North.  But  when  the 
air  is  perfectly  dry  it  is  to  me  the  most  buoyant 
and  delicious.  It  has  all  the  ethereal  properties  of 
champagne.  I  drink  it  in  long,  deep  draughts. 
The  worst  of  it  is,  it  goes  to  my  head,  and  I  do 
not  sleep  well.  I  have  here  a  peculiar  lightness 
of  the  brain,  as  well  as  of  the  spirits.  This  may 
be  a  temporary  effect,  due  in  great  part  to  mental 
excitement.  Real  mountaineers  are  famous  sleep- 
ers,  I  believe. 

This  Idaho  valley,  now  so  bare  of  all  verdure  and 
foliage,  was  once  grassy  and  thickly  wooded.  It  has 
been  wasted  and  despoiled  of  all  such  beauty  by 
the  gold-seekers,  principally  gulch-miners.  In  one 
place  the  golden  stream  had  been  so  severely 
dealt  with,  —  its  very  bed  taken  out  from  under  it, 
pits  dug  beside  it,  rocks  tumbled  about,  —  that  I 
exclaimed,  "  Surely,  mining  did  not  do  all  this  ;  it 
looks  like  a  convulsion  of  nature !  " 

"  A  convulsion  of  human  nature,  madam,"  said  a 
fellow-traveller. 

Towering  above  Idaho,  in  full  sight  from  the  hotel, 


SUNSET     IN     A     STORM.  97 


is  that  interesting  family  group  of  mountains  called 
the  Chief,  the  Squaw,  and  the  Pappoose,  —  the  only 
dignified  noble  savages  and  really  friendly  Indians  I 
have  yet  seen,  and  the  only  ones  not  likely  to  move 
on.  The  poor  Chief  has  lost  his  scalp-lock ;  that  is, 
his  head  is  above  timber  line,  being  over  eleven 
thousand  feet  high. 

It  is  so  rainy  that  we  cannot  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  this  aboriginal  first  family.  Mr.  Cox,  with 
an  adventurous  friend,  did  make  the  ascent  day 
before  yesterday  to  Chicago  Lakes,  to  seek  the  scene 
of  Bierstadt's  "  Storm,"  and  got  it,  —  the  storm. 
The  grand  scene  kept  up  its  reputation,  hailed  the 
distinguished  gentlemen,  gave  them  a  thunderous 
greeting,  and  illuminated  for  them  with  sharp  light- 
nings. Old  Congressmen  as  they  were,  and  accus- 
tomed to  public  appearances,  they  were  quite  over- 
whelmed with  their  reception ;  and  when  they  retired 
to  rest  in  an  abandoned  log-cabin,  lacking  the  little 
luxury  of  a  roof,  and  the  demonstration  was  kept  up, 
they  confessed  that  it  was  possible  to  have  too  much 
of  the  sublime  and  beautiful  —  of  the  Bierstadtic 
order.  During  that  night  of  grand  storm  "  effects  " 
and  unusual  length,  our  poetic  Democratic  friend  was 
5- 


g8  COLORADO. 


never  once  heard  to  quote  appropriate  passages  from 
"Childe  Harold,"  but,  strangely  enough,  as  he  lay 
there  cowering  under  his  blanket,  and  clinging  close 
to  his  companion,  an  old  schoolfellow,  his  lips  every 
now  and  then  gave  forth  a  well-remembered  cry  of 
his  childhood,  desolate  and  wondrous  pitiful,  "  O 
Mark,  I  want  to  go  home  ! " 

The  great  painter  of  twenty-tnousand-dollar  pic- 
tures should  have  been  there  again,  to  have  painted 
"  Sunset "  on  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Georgetown,  September  20. 
On  a  fair  but  fickle  morning  succeeding  a  night  of 
storm,  I  drove  up  from  Idaho  with  my  genial  friends, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cox.  The  valley  of  South  Clear 
Creek  is,  between  the  Springs  and  Georgetown, 
peculiarly  picturesque  and  lovely.  Every  now  and 
then  it  opens  out  into  miniature  parks,  green  and 
flowery  ;  and  the  stream  itself —  now  sweeping 
along  in  the  shadow  of  grand  mountains,  now  flash- 
ing in  the  sunlight  —  is  not  only  beautiful,  but  has 
a  charm  of  its  own,  of  mystery  and  destiny,  is  sug- 
gestive, with  its  alluring  shine  and  silvery  tattle,  of 
vast  treasures  hid  away  in  the  wilds  from  which  it 


THE    DEVIL  S    GATE. 


99 


comes.  This  Clear  Creek,  in  all  its  course,  in  all  its 
branches,  is  a  marvellous,  enticing  stream. 

Georgetown  nestles  like  a  darling  close  up  against 
these  great  mountains,  that  tower  protectingly  above 
her  some  two  thousand  feet.  It  lies  most  of  the  day 
in  shadow.  Old  Summit  heads  off  the  morninor  hght : 
Republican  anticipates  the  evening  shades.  Here 
we  see  neither  sunrise  nor  sunset.  I  miss  the  latter ; 
the  former  is  not  of  much  account. 

At  the  Barton  House,  the  fashionable  hotel  of  the 
town,  we  met  some  friends  who  had  previously  invited 
us  to  a  "miners'  dinner,"  at  a  mountain  ranch  about 
two  miles  above  the  town.  We  followed  up  the 
canon  by  a  steep,  wild,  winding  road,  amid  gather- 
ing mists  and  under  heavy  threatening  clouds.  On 
the  way,  the  gentlemen  left  the  carriage  to  follow  out 
a  rocky  point,  from  which  to  look  down  on  a  peculiar, 
narrow  passage  in  the  creek,  called  the  Devil's  Gate. 
This  I  have  since  seen,  and  found  really  grand.  A 
lady  tourist  visited  it  awhile  ago,  leaving  her  little 
daughter  in  the  care  of  a  friend  in  Georgetown.  On 
her  return,  the  child  ran  up  to  her  in  great  excite- 
ment, exclaiming,  "  O  mamma !  was  the  Devil  at 
home  ? " 


lOO  COLORADO. 


The  ranch  to  which  we  had  been  invited  belongs 
to  the  rich  Silver  Plume  Mine,  and  is  perched  up 
among  the  pines  on  a  grand  rocky  ledge,  command- 
ing one  of  the  most  wild  and  striking,  yet  lovely 
views  of  this  region.  The  house,  neat,  commodious, 
and  even  picturesque,  is  Bachelors'  Hall,  where  no 
feminine  housekeeper  intrudes,  where  no  Dinah  mo- 
lests, and  no  Biddy  maketh  afraid.  Two  of  the  man- 
agers of  the  mine,  Mr.  S and  Colonel  G ,  are 

the    proprietors   of  the   establishment,   though  their 

friend,  Judge    B ,  has   all    the   privileges  of  the 

house,  —  to  eat,  and  sleep,  and  cook,  and  wash  dishes. 
There  our  hosts,  courteous  and  cultivated  gentlemen, 
set  us  down  to  a  well-appointed  table,  and  served  us 
to  course  after  course  of  meats  admirably  cooked  and 
vegetables  in  bewildering  variety.  For  dessert  we 
had  pudding,  fruits,  and  three  kinds  of  pie.  I  have 
always  had  a  misgiving  that  our  monopoly  of  the 
kitchen  department  is  a  usurpation,  and  this  experi- 
ment convinced  me  that  we  have  carried  things  with 
too  high  a  hand.  After  that  most  remarkable  and 
jolly  dinner  —  a  revolutionary  banquet  —  was  over, 
Mrs.  Cox  and  I  meekly  proposed  to  assist  in  the 
"  clearing  up,"  and  were  finally  permitted  to  wipe  the 


BACHELOR  S     HALL.  lOl 


dishes.  We  did  our  best,  perceiving  that  our  per- 
formance was  watched  very  critically.  Such  neat- 
ness, such  order  in  kitchen  and  pantry,  filled  us  with 
envious  despair.  Yet  I  would  not  have  men  display- 
ing such  domestic  faculties  disfranchised.  I  would 
rather,  if  I  could,  encourage  such  rare  virtues  by 
frequent  visits  to  the  Silver  Plume  House. 

By  the  way,  gentlemen  visitors  before  accepting 
the  hospitalities  of  our  brave  mountaineers,  bachelors 
for  the  nonce,  are  required  to  subscribe  to  the  fol- 
lowing 

RULES   AND    REGULATIONS. 

1.  Guests,  upon  arrival,  will  divest  themselves  of  their 
hats  and  coats,  and  proceed  to  make  themselves  useful. 

2.  Meals  served  when  they  are  ready. 

3.  No  lights  allowed  in  the  rooms  after  the  candles  have 
burned  out. 

4.  No  gambling  allowed  in  the  house  unless  the  landlord 
is  in  the  game. 

5.  If  you  wish  any  water,  the  creek  is  seventy  yards 
south  of  the  house,  and  the  pail  in  the  kitchen. 

6.  No  complaints  of  the  servants  will  be  tolerated. 

7.  If  your  boots  require  shining,  the  blacking  and  brushes 
are  behind  the  door,  —  shine  away. 


I02  COLORADO. 


8.  If  the  cooking  does  not  please  you,  the  larder,  stove, 
and  wood  are  at  your  disposal. 

9.  The  only  brand  of  spirits  or  wines  allowed  to  be 
drunk  in  the  house  is  the  O.  P.  (other  people's)  brand, 

10.  Any  guest  not  liking  these  rules  is  at  liberty  to  help 
himself  to  mustard. 

The  "Silver  Plume"  is  one  of  the  prettiest  and 
most  suggestive  names  yet  given  to  a  mine.  Some 
are  very  striking,  like  the  "  Terrible,"  and  some  odd 
and  ludicrous,  like  the  "  Bobtail,"  the  "  Big  Thunder," 
the  "  Spondulics,"  the  "  Poor  Woman,"  and  the 
"  Spotted  Jack."  The  legend  of  the  latter  is,  that  as 
a  prospector  reached  a  certain  point  on  a  mountain 
trail,  his  pack  animal,  a  piebald  Jack,  stopped  short, 
braced  himself,  and  utterly  refused  to  budge  an- 
other step.  Neither  blows  nor  blandishments  had 
any  effect.  Could  he  have  spoken,  as  spake  one  of 
his  kind  when  belabored  by  the  Prophet  Balaam, 
he  might  have  said  :  "  Why  beatest  thou  thy  servant  ? 
Beholdest  thou  not  the  angel  of  fortune  standing 
in  the  trail  before  us,  with  a  drawn  silver  sword  ? 
Seest  thou  not  the  '  blossom  rock '  at  thy  feet .'' " 

At  last  the  miner  chanced  to  perceive  in  the  soil 


BRAINS     FOR    CONGRESS.  103 


on  which  he  stood  the  sure  indication  of  ore,  and  in 
his  gratitude,  and  as  an  amende  honorable  for  the 
beating,  bestowed  upon  the  lode  then  discovered  the 
name  of  "  Spotted  Jack."  Here  may  have  been  a 
donkey  diviner,  an  inspired  ass.  Such  things  have 
been. 

The  next  day's  event  was  a  horseback  excur- 
sion to  Green  Lake,  a  beautiful  and  unique  sheet 
of  water,  lying  High  up  among  the  mountains  in 
a  deep,  dark  privacy  of  rock  and  pine.  Just  be- 
yond it  is  a  wonderful  wild  spot,  known  _  as  the 
Battle-Ground  of  the  Gods,  where  the  valley  is 
covered  many  feet  deep  with  rocks,  immense 
boulders,  which  have  been  hurled  down,  in  some 
awful  tumult  of  the  elements,  from  the  mountains 
on  both  sides. 

Green  Lake  is  a  pleasure  resort,  with  nice  build- 
ings and  boats,  at  present  in  charge  of  three  young 
miners  resting  from  severer  labors.  We  found  them 
remarkably  cultivated  and  courteous  young  gentle- 
men. They  rowed  us  to  the  upper  end  of  the 
lake,  where  there  is  a  singular  natural  curiosity. 
Far  down  under  the  clear,  green  water  are  to  be 
seen    large    round    rocks,    covered  with    a    peculiar 


I04  COLORADO. 


kind  of  moss,  which  gives  them  a  remarkable  re- 
semblance to  the  lobes  of  the  human  brain.  I  re- 
marked to  the  honorable  gentleman  from  New  York, 
that  it  was  a  pity  this  great  natural  deposit  of  brains 
was  not  more  contiguous  to  the  capital  of  our  coun- 
try, —  there  might  be  a  chance  for  a  contract  to 
supply  Congress.  Came  the  withering  reply,  "Yes, 
madam,  and  the  newspaper  people  ;  I  'm  opposed  to 
monopolies." 

We  made  very  good  time  down  the  mountain, 
hurried  by  low,  muttered  threats  of  thunder,  and 
gentle  hints  of  lightning,  with  a  mild  suggestion 
of  drizzle,  and,  finally,  unequivocal  expressions  in 
the  shape  of  big,  dancing  drops  of  rain.  Just 
as  we  reached  the  sheltering  porch  of  the  hotel, 
a  silvery  sheet  of  hail  shut  down  upon  us  like  a 
portcullis. 

That  afternoon  my  pleasant  companions  left  me, 
left  with  Colorado  not  half  seen,  —  he  at  the  call 
of  his  country  and  the  Ku-Klux  committee,  she  at  his 
call,  though  Snake  River  Pass  beguiled  and  Gray's 
Peak  allured.  All  that  dreary  night  it  stormed,  and 
in  the  morning  the  mountains  on  three  sides  of  us 
were    white    with    snow.      O    strange,    wild    scene ! 


ELECTION    DAY    AT    THE     MINES.  I05 

O  marvellous  leap,  from  midsummer  into  De- 
cember ! 

But  the  next  day  was  mild  and  bright,  and  elec- 
tion day.  I  watched  the  gathering  of  the  clans, 
the  passing  of  processions  and  brass  bands,  with 
unusual  interest.  These  manly  men,  brave  pioneers 
and  miners,  seem  to  make  much  of  the  privilege 
of  electing  their  county  officers,  are  thankful  for 
small  favors  in  the  way  of  the  franchise.  I  never 
looked  upon  an  election  crowd  more  earnest  and 
orderly,  or  so  intelligent  looking.  The  mire  of 
politics,  the  corruption  of  the  polls,  did  not  seem 
to  have  hurt  them  much.  The  Judge  of  Probate, 
elected  by  an  unprecedented  majority,  is  a  young 
man  of  twenty-four.  Colorado  is  the  paradise  of 
young  men  ;  but  they  must  be  young  men  of  tal- 
ent, energy,  tact,  pluck,  and  of  a  fiery  yet  chiv- 
alrous spirit. 

I  was  that  night  present  at  a  sumptuous  supper 
given  by  the  Judge  elect,  in  his  elegant  house,  to 
the  band,  —  all  young  Englishmen,  and  all  miners 
on  the  great  "  Terrible  "  lode.  They  were  accom- 
panied by  the  foreman  of  the  mine,  a  very  intelli- 
gent Cornishman,  and  by  their  superintendent,  Mr. 
5* 


Io6  COLORADO. 


Olds,  a  gentleman  of  remarkable  talent  and  culti- 
vation, and  the  pleasantest  of  companions.  It  was, 
I  confess,  something  of  a  surprise  to  me  to  find 
all  these  Terrible  fellows  so  intelligent,  so  well 
dressed,  so  agreeable-  Transformed  from  gnomes 
into  very  agreeable  fellow-creatures,  they  passed  with 
ease  and  dignity  from  the  "shaft"  to  the  stairway, 
and  from  the  "  drift  "  to  the  drawing-room. 

The  candidate  they  honored  did  not  treat  them, 
had  not  treated  any  man  that  day  to  anything 
stronger  than  coffee  and  cigars.  "  O  wise  young 
Judge ! " 

A  day  or  two  later  I  rode  up  the  creek  to  the 
Terrible,  kindly  escorted  by  Mr.  Olds.  Here  I 
first  entered  a  great  tunnel,  lighting  my  own  way 
by  a  flickering  candle.  Twice  we  had  to  stand 
aside,  —  cower  close  up  against  the  wall,  out  of  the 
way  of  a  loaded  car,  —  and  once  we  were  arrested 
by  miners  running  out  of  a  drift,  with  the  warn- 
ing cry  of  "  Fire  !  "  followed  almost  immediately  by 
the  dull  thunder  of  a  blast.  After  the  suffocating 
smoke  had  somewhat  cleared  away,  we  followed  up 
the  drift,  and  clambered  over  the  fresh  heap  of 
rock  torn  down  by  the  blast.     That  and  the  great 


UNDERGROUND.  I07 


timbers  at  the  entrance  of  the  drift,  and  the  steep 
iron  ladder  reaching  to  the  level  above,  gave  me 
my  first  full  realization  of  the  stupendous,  titanic 
labor  necessary  to  the  mere  opening  of  a  mine  ;  for 
though  the  Terrible  has  turned  out  a  great  deal 
of  excellent  ore,  its  superintendent  considers  that 
they  have  only  yet  made  "a  small  beginning."  The 
great  Burleigh  Tunnel,  a  little  way  down  the  valley, 
has  gone  in  nearly  twelve  thousand  feet,  and  has 
not  yet  reached  "  paying  ore."  This  great  work  is 
being  executed  by  monstrous  drills,  driven  by  at- 
mospheric pressure.  Of  course,  just  before  those 
mighty  engines  shines  the  great  lead. 

After  leaving  the  tunnel  we  visited  the  other 
works,  and  I  became  tolerably  familiar  with  all  the 
laborious  processes  of  sorting,  dressing,  and  washing 
the  ore.  Everything  of  the  kind  is  strangely  inter- 
esting to  me,  and  the  faith,  the  energy,  the  con- 
stancy, the  hard,  heroic  industry  of  these  men  excite 
in  my  heart  the  most  respectful  admiration. 

In  the  cabin  of  one  of  the  miners  I  saw  an  en- 
gaging pair  of  pets,  —  a  pretty  black-and-tan  terrier 
and  a  peaceful  tiger-marked  cat,  —  who  are  the  most 
gentle  and  jolly  comrades,  frolicking  together  by  the 


Io8  COLORADO. 


hour,  and  going  off  together  to  hunt  the  ground- 
squirrel.  Together,  they  follow  the  miner  -when  he 
goes  sporting  or  prospecting,  trotting  after  him  all 
day,  and  creeping  under  his  blanket  at  night.  The 
terrier  is  called  "  the  dog  of  the  mine,"  ready  to 
be  caressed  by  every  hand  ;  but  the  cat  is  exclusive 
in  her  devotion,  and  it  is  scarcely  safe  for  a  stranger 
to  touch  her.  She  seems  to  take  the  caninity  from 
her  playfellow,  and  to  have  bestowed  her  felinity 
upon  him. 

On  our  way  down  the  mountain  we  met  the  Green 
Lake  boys,  out  on  a  prospecting  tour,  probably. 
When  they  first  came  to  the  Territory  they  invested 
all  they  possessed  in  a  mine,  which  proved  a  failure  ; 
but  not  daunted  or  discouraged,  they  are  as  ready  as 
ever  to  hurl  all  their  energies  and  resolve  at  the 
stony  heart  of  the  mountain.  I  wish  them  good 
luck,  yet  all  I  see  here  convinces  me  that  mining 
without  capital  is  a  phantom.  Only  large  means 
can  insure  large  results.  It  is  only  when  the  greedy 
earth  is  gorged  with  a  great  deal  of  money,  that  it 
will  disgorge  a  little  gold  and  silver.  Capital  bears 
as  hard  on  labor  here  as  elsewhere.  I  am  told  the 
law  requires  that  the  poor  miner,  before  he  can  even 


MINING    NEEDS    MONEY.  lOQ 


get  out  a  patent  to  secure  his  claim,  must  put  upon 
it  ^i,ooo   in   labor   and   machinery.     This  and   his 
surveys   necessitate    an    outlay   of  $  1,200   to   begin 
with.     Then  there  is  his  support,  and  often  that  of 
a  family,  with  the  cost  of  living  fearfully  high.     So 
it  is  that  we  find  the  ground  in  some  mining  regions 
honeycombed  with    abandoned    claims.     Boarded-up 
tunnels  and  idle  windlasses  are  far  oftener  indication^ 
of  the  failure  of  means  in  the   miner   than  of  ore 
in  the   mine.     The   running   of  railroads   into   this 
region,  and  the  consequent  reduction  in  the  cost  of 
transportation,  labor,  and  living,  will  work   a   great 
revolution.     Colonel  Thomas  A.  Scott  is  the  coming 
man   for  Colorado.     His  name,  if  he  carries  out  the 
grand  enterprises  ascribed  to  him,  will  be  lettered  in 
silver  and  gold  on  the  granite  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains.    But  for  the  present  let  the  poor  man  come 
here,  if  come  he  must,  with  no  wild  dreams  of  sure 
and  speedy  success.     Fortune  must  here  be  wooed, 
not  only  with  heart  and  a  strong  hand,  but  a   full 

purse. 

September  22. 

There   is   in    Georgetown    a   certain   old   pioneer, 
prospector,  soldier,  journalist,  philosopher,  and  friend. 


no  COLORADO. 


by  name  Stephen  Decatur,  but  accosted  everywhere 
in  the  Territory,  where  every  man  must  have  a  title 
or  a  sobriquet,  as  "  Commodore,"  —  a  man  known  of 
all  tourists,  and  well  beloved  of  miners  and  little 
children.  To  this  pleasant  and  well-informed  ac- 
quaintance I  am  indebted  for  the  crowning  pleasure 
of  my  visit  to  the  mountains,  —  an  excursion  to  the 
Divide  and  Snake  River  Pass. 

We  set  forth  early  this  morning  under  a  glorious 
assurance  of  sunshine  and  clear  skies,  which  held  out 
to  the  end.  The  drive  of  ten  miles  through  a  lonely 
valley,  along  a  winding  road  continually  ascending, 
was  to  me  a  succession  of  delicious  surprises.  The 
aspens,  which  grow  profusely  along  this  creek  and 
for  some  distance  up  the  mountain-sides,  and  the  low 
shrubs  and  plants,  were  touched  by  late  frosts  into 
exquisite  shades  of  gold  and  scarlet  and  crimson  and 
brown,  lighting  up  the  grand  gloom  of  the  pine  and 
spruce ;  then  the  mountains,  towering  above  us  in 
majestic  beauty,  marred  here  and  there  though  their 
stern  faces  were  by  tunnel-wounds  and  boom-ditch 
gashes.  It  makes  one  dizzy  to  look  to  some  of  the 
points  at  which  the  miners  are  at  work.  They 
have  tapped  the  mountain  at  elevations  one  would 


DIVIDE    AND    SNAKE    RIVER.  Ill 


say  only  a  wild  bird  could  reach.  At  last  gleamed 
before  us,  above  the  gloom  and  the  green  and 
the  gold,  the  distant,  defiant  peaks,  where  eternal 
snow  and  silence  and  mystery  brood  over  the 
secrets  of  nature,  which  as  yet  men  can  only 
guess   at. 

As  we  drew  nearer  to  the  snow-crowned  moun- 
tains, and  wound  up  toward  the  pass,  it  was  cu- 
rious to  mark  the  gradations  by  which  the  foliage 
of  the  valley  disappeared.  The  aspen,  trembling 
and  shrinking  more  and  more,  gave  out  first  ;  the 
sturdy  pine  kept  on  bravely  for  a  while,  but  seemed 
to  cower  toward  the  earth,  became  cramped  and 
distorted,  peaked  and  pined,  straggled  in  the 
march,  and  at  last  fell  back.  We  had  passed 
"timber  line  ;"  and  there  remained  only  a  few  scant 
grasses  and  brave  little  flowers  and  small  lichen- 
like plants,  which  kept  along  with  us  to  the  very 
summit  of  the  pass. 

Fortunately,  the  air  was  soft  and  almost  perfect- 
ly clear,  so  that  it  was  pleasant  for  us  to  linger 
on  the  very  highest  point  of  the  pass,  and  possi- 
ble for  us  to  see  a  great  distance  on  both  the  At- 
lantic and  Pacific  sides  of  that  wonderful  mountain 


112  COLORADO. 


world.  Six  miles  to  our  right  was  Grey's  Peak, 
fifteen  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  It 
scarcely  seemed  more  than  two  miles  away.  We 
could  easily  see  a  party  of  tourists  toiling  up  to  the 
dazzling  summit.  When  we  marked  through  what 
heavy  snows  they  were  obliged  to  make  their  way, 
we  were  quite  content  with  our  12,500  feet.  There 
were  a  few  patches  of  snow  on  the  point  we  occu- 
pied, quite  enough  for  the  indispensable  snow-balls, 
and  not  too  much  for  comfort.  I  sat  there  on 
that  bare,  desolate  peak  long  enough  to  let  the 
vast,  grand  scene  sink  deeply  and  ineradicably  into 
my  memory.  It  was  more  solemnly  grand  to  me 
than  any  Alpine  scene  I  remember.  The  Alps,  I 
think,  are  more  wild  and  broken  and  jagged ; 
they  lack  the  awful  repose  of  these  stupendous 
shapes  ;  they  dazzle  more  with  their  glaciers  and 
astonish  with  their  white,  sharp  heights  :  these 
overwhelm  one  with  their  vastness,  their  solidity, 
their  mighty,  dome-like  swells.  They  seem  to  be 
taking  a  continent  to  themselves  ;  you  can  scarcely 
imagine  any  land  beyond  them.  It  strikes  me 
it  is  like  the  difference  between  a  sea  tossed  by  a 
sudden   tempest,  broken,  tumultuous,  and    foaming, 


THE     LITTLE     BROWN     PIONEER.  II3 


and  a  sea  subsiding  after  a  great  storm,  rolling,  dark 
and  sullen,  in  mighty  swells,  with  only  the  mighti- 
est capped  with  the  white  froth  of  its  fury. 

The  road  leading  down  into  the  valley  of  the 
Snake  River  seems  one  of  most  enticing  perilous- 
ness  and  beauty.  It  was  hard  for  me  to  turn  back 
without  exploring  it  and  the  lovely  parks  and  wild 
canons  beyond.  But  the  time  is  almost  come  when 
I  must  turn  my  steps  from  Colorado  altogether. 

We  ate  our  lunch,  seated  among  the  rocks  by 
the  roadside,  sharing  our  "  grub-pile "  with  the 
road-master  and  toll-gatherer,  —  a  Colorado  soldier, 
a  man  of  much  intelligence  and  genial  feeling, 
whom  it  would  be  pleasant  to  meet  anywhere ; 
and  before  we  left  the  range  there  came  along  a 
young  prospector  and  hunter,  who  told  me  how  he 
had  been  "  corralled  "  up  a  tree  by  a  she-grizzly, 
which  also  was  a  pleasant  and  piquant  incident. 

I  must  not  forget  to  record  still  another  little 
incident  of  this  day  of  days. 

Just  as  we  passed  "  timber  line,"  in  our  ascent, 
a  little  brown  bird  started  out  from  a  bush  by  the 
roadside,  and  flew  along  before  us,  evidently  lead- 
ing  the    way,  giving    out    now  and    then    a  cheery 


114  COLORADO. 


chirp  of  welcome  and  encouragement  From  rock 
to  rock,  up  all  the  dreary  way,  past  steep  declivi- 
ties, over  banks  of  snow,  it  flitted  ;  pausing,  when 
we  paused  to  give  our  panting  horses  breath,  and 
looking  back  at  us,  always  with  that  patronizing 
chirp  and  a  pretty  sidelong  bob  of  the  head.  Dear 
little  friendly  creature  !  Blithe  spirit  of  the  soli- 
tude!  A  palpitating  joy, — vocal,  yet  unconscious 
love  and  courage  and  thanksgiving,  —  unawed  by 
those  awful  white  heights,  by  those  dark  depths, 
by  the  vastness  and  loneliness  and  solemn  silence 
of  that  upper  world,  it  bathed  in  the  soft  air  and 
radiant  sunshine,  and  so  nestled  in  the  bosom  of 
Nature  and  of  God. 

I  shall  leave  Georgetown,  and  particularly  the 
house  in  which  I  have  been  most  tenderly  enter- 
tained, with  keen  regret.  The  town  itself,  though 
charmingly  situated,  is  not  attractive  to  Eastern 
eyes.  It  sadly  lacks  foliage  ;  it  is  rocky  and  stumpy; 
and  some  of  its  streets  are  needlessly  rough  and 
steep.  But  the  people  are  singularly  cordial  and 
agreeable.  They  are  truly  democratic  in  their  greet- 
ing to  strangers.  The  rich  capitalist  is  received  as 
handsomely   as  the  honest  miner  come  to  seek  his 


COMING  OF  THE  FEEBLE  AND  FASHIONABLE.  II5 

fortune.  The  elegant  tourist  or  sportsman,  even 
if  he  be  an  English  lord,  is  treated  kindly,  if  he 
shows  a  disposition  to  rise  to  the  conditions  of  the 
new  life  around  him,  and  rough  off  his  rank. 

The  new  narrow-gauge  railroad  from  Golden  to 
Central  is  to  be  continued  to  Georgetown.  This 
will  not  only  be  an  immense  help  toward  the 
development  of  the  mines,  but  will  make  the  town 
more  than  ever  the  resort  of  tourists  and  invalids. 
New  hotels  will  be  built,  and  rustic  cottages  ;  and 
the  suffering  and  the  sensible,  and,  alas  !  the  fash- 
ionable and  the  pretentious,  will  set  in  upon  it 
in  crowds.  Saratoga  trunks,  if  they  can  get  on 
the  narrow-gauge,  will  come  in.  Hitherto,  the 
immense  charges  for  extra  baggage  have  almost 
laid  an  embargo  on  them.  Actresses  coming  to 
Colorado  have  been  compelled,  at  a  painful  sacri- 
fice of  their  modesty,  to  "  shed  the  light  frivolity 
of  dress "  in  a  great  measure.  But  by  another 
season  or  two,  belles  in  distracting  French  toilets 
will  invade  tunnels  and  crushing -mills,  and  de- 
scend into  shafts,  and  plunge  into  drifts,  and  storm 
the  Devil's  Gate. 


Il6  COLORADO. 


Denver,  September  27. 

A  week  ago  I  came  down  from  the  mountains, 
and  somehow  have  not  felt  much  like  finishing 
my  letter  since.  An  outside  stage-coach  drive  of 
fifty  miles,  beginning  at  6  a.  m.  in  a  shadowed 
mountain  valley  and  a  mild  November  temperature, 
and  ending  at  2  p.  m.  in  the  unmitigated  sun- 
glare  of  the  plains,  in  the  dust  and  fierce  heat 
of  midsummer,  was  not  altogether  an  agreeable 
or  healthful  Httle  trip ;  but  I  lived  through  it,  — 
just.  If  I  were  not  in  Colorado,  I  should  think 
myself  ill. 

Our  coach  was  heavily  loaded  with  passengers 
and  mineral  specimens  bound  for  the  great  State 
Fair  at  Denver,  and  our  driver  remorselessly  bent 
on  making  the  best  time  possible  ;  and  yet  no 
accident  happened,  except  at  the  very  start,  when 
the  renowned  Hiram's  whiskey-flask,  lying  on  the 
seat  behind  him,  became  uncorked,  and  the  pre- 
cious contents  ran  all  abroad.  Rather  more  than 
was  quite  agreeable  came  on  to  my  side.  Some 
vile  punster  in  the  company  remarked  that  it  was 
"  a  good  thing  to  start  on  a  journey  in  a  fine  flow 
of    spirits."      We    laid    the    dust    with    "  mountain 


THE    CITY    OF    THE    PLAINS.  II7 

dew,"  —  we  made  the  very  air  drunk  as  we  dashed 
along.  Hiram's  last  name  is  the  same  as  that 
borne  by  a  family  somewhat  eminent  in  American 
pohtics,  and  of  which  four  brothers  were  once  in 
Congress  together.  I  ventured  to  ask  him  if  he 
also  was  of  that  family.  The  honest  fellow  drew 
himself  up  haughtily,  touched  up  his  leaders,  and 
replied,  "  No :  there  are  four  brothers  of  us,  but 
we  are  all  stage-drivers." 

The  first  distant  view  of  the  plains  stretching 
out  beyond  Table  Mountain,  as  you  descend 
the  foot-hills,  is  surpassingly  grand.  To  me  it 
was  even  grander  than  the  mountains  in  the  back- 
ground, —  so  vast,  so  illimitable  it  seemed.  And 
the  sight  was  strangely  touching,  as  more  sugges- 
tive of  human  life  and  death,  of  enterprise,  of 
struggle,  of  suffering.  And  how  inspiring  was 
the  first  view  of  Denver  !  Young  Empress  of  the 
Plains,  to  whom  the  old  kingly  mountains  pay 
tribute  from  their  hidden  treasure  -  chests,  —  fair 
desert  child  of  this  wondrous  golden  age,  with  her 
stirring  yet  pathetic  legend,  strange  and  wild  and 
tragic,  —  a  city  founded  in  peril,  isolation,  hard- 
ship, and  heroism. 


Il8  COLORADO. 


October  4. 

On  coming  down  from  the  mountains  I  found 
the  great  fair  in  full  blast.  On  the  second  day- 
there  were  some  very  exciting  trotting  -  matches 
between  Colorado  Chief  and  Richard  the  Third. 
If  the  horses  were  not  quite  equal  to  Dexter  and 
Goldsmith  Maid,  our  crowd  was  quite  as  enthu- 
siastic as  a  Long  Island  crowd  could  be,  and 
bets  were  lively.  I  observed  one  venerable  man 
betting  with  a  small  boy,  in  an  instructive  moral 
way  ;  and  when  his  horse  won,  he  pocketed  the 
Httle  fellow's  three  cents  "  with  a  smile  that  was 
childlike  and  bland."  There  was  some  good  run- 
ning of  handsome  horses ;  and  how  restive  and 
fiery  they  were,  and  how  many  men  it  took  to 
hold  them  !  They  were  ridden  by  gayly  costumed 
young  jockeys,  quite  in  the  style  of  our  pious 
ancestors.  There  were  mule-races  wild  and  laugh- 
able, and  on  the  last  two  days  "  the  ancient  tour- 
nament," and  racing  by  friendly  Utes.  In  the 
tournament  appeared  gay  young  knights,  gor- 
geously apparelled,  of  all  known  and  unknown 
orders,  who,  with  gleaming  lances  tilted  gallantly, 
not   at   one   another,  but   at   rings   suspended   over 


FAIR-DAY. TOURNAMENTS    AND    RACES.      II9 


the  track  before  the  judges'  stand  ;  and  a  Scotch 
knight,  a  modest  youth  of  seventeen  summers, 
havhig  borne  off  the  most  rings,  was  at  last  de- 
clared victor,  and  crowned  with  '  a  resplendent 
wreath  which  he  afterward,  under  the  direction  of 
the  herald  or  marshal,  placed  on  the  fair  head 
of  his  chosen  queen  of  love  and  beauty,  —  all  of 
which  was  very  fine  and  feudal,  and  suggested 
Ivanhoe  and   Eglinton  and  Astley's. 

The  Indians  were  to  race  for  two  dazzling 
prizes, — a  saddle  and  a  bridle,  manufactured  es- 
pecially to  suit  their  sumptuous  taste.  They  were 
a  rather  melancholy  band  of  Utes,  mounted  on 
sorry  ponies ;  and  some  came  on  the  ground  ac- 
companied by  their  squaws  and  pappooses,  wearing 
like  them  an  appearance  the  reverse  of  festive. 
The  Ute  is  of  a  squat  figure  and  of  a  broad, 
blank  countenance.  It  is  difficult  to  tell  the 
mounted  braves  from  the  wild  belles  who  gallop 
through  the  streets  with  them  ;  for  alike  they  wear 
rouge  and  ear-rings,  part  their  back-hair,  and  ride 
astride.  With  my  advanced  ideas  on  the  woman 
question,  I  have  been  gratified  at  this  indication 
of  natural  equality,  —  gratified  to  see   that  the  no- 


I20  COLORADO. 


ble  red  woman  so  nearly  resembles  the  stern  lord 
whose  burdens  and  blows  she  bears  ;  that  her 
countenance  is  marked,  equally  with  his,  by  that 
lofty  stoicism  and  quick  sensibility,  that  princely 
pride  and  native  modesty,  that  keen-eyed  sagacity 
and  childlike  trustfulness,  that  matchless  subtlety 
and  fearless  honesty,  that  iron  resolve  and  plastic 
gentleness,  which  we  read  of  in  the  pleasing  ro- 
mances of  Cooper  and  the  Peace  Commissioners. 
The  first  preparation  made  for  the  race  by  the 
Indian  competitors  was  the  stripping  off  of  sad- 
dles and  all  unnecessary  ornaments  from  their  po- 
nies, and  the  discarding  of  a  large  portion  of  their 
own  classic  drapery.  It  was  an  audacious  undress 
parade.  The  ponies,  thus  lightened,  ran  astonish- 
ingly well,  and  the  prizes  were  borne  off  by  the 
victors  in  stoHd  triumph.  All  the  Indians,  to  my 
surprise,  rode  in  solemn  silence.  I  was  afterward 
told  that  the  usual  savage  yell  had  been  prohib- 
ited by  the  marshal.  It  was  one  of  the  reserved 
rights  of  the  civilized  Caucasian  crowd,  and  you 
would  not  have  known  theirs  from  the  native 
article. 

In  the    next    day's    race,    one   of  the   two   best 


INDIAN    JOCKEY    COURTESY.  121 

ponies  balked,  when  about  half  round  the  course, 
and  the  singular  sight  was  presented  of  the  rider  of 
the  other  horse  pulling  up,  and  waiting  till  his  rival 
should  be  able  to  go  on.  Here  is  a  fact  for  the 
philanthropists  and  a  lesson  to  the  Christian  jockey. 

Just  before  the  Indians  started  on  the  first  race, 
it  was  perceived  that  the  iron  tournament-rings 
hanging  over  the  track  had  not  been  removed. 
They  were  hastily  taken  down,  and  perhaps  a 
sad  accident  averted.  Ah !  had  the  danger  been 
overlooked,  —  had  the  poor  Indian,  ever  the  victim 
of  "  rings,"  dashed  out  his  brains  against  one  of 
these,  —  what  a  sensation  it  would  have  created  in 
exalted  Eastern  circles!  what  a  story  would  have 
gone  forth  of  the  unsuspecting  Ute,  decoyed  into 
the  fair-grounds,  and  "butchered  to  make  a  Den- 
ver  holiday  !  " 

There  was  the  usual  display  of  lady  equestrian- 
ism ;  a  good  deal  of  solemn  cantering  around 
the  track,  and  up  and  down  before  those  awful 
judges ;  and  all  was  very  proper  and  common- 
place, except  the  performances  of  a  certain  young 
lady,  who  rode  a  bare-back  act  on  a  spirited 
white   horse   which   she   sat   with   the   utmost   ease 

6 


122  COLORADO. 


and  dignity,  and  managed  admirably.  Unlearned 
in  the  mysterious  ways  of  fair  committees,  I 
supposed  that  here  was,  of  course,  the  "  elect 
lady,"  who  would  take  the  first  prize  by  acclama- 
tion. But  she  did  not  take  it,  nor  the  second, 
nor  the  third.  I  should  have  liked  to  set  those 
inscrutable  judges,  and  that  gay  young  man,  the 
marshal,  each  on  a  bare-backed,  high-mettled  steed, 
and  I  would  have  compelled  them  to  ride  side- 
wise  and  encumbered  with  a  long,  heavy  skirt. 
After  galloping  and  caracolling  about  that  course 
for  a  few  times,  I  think  their  respect  for  such 
performances  would  have  increased.  But  perhaps 
they  thought  bare-back  riding  something  unfemi- 
nine  and  reformatory,  and  were  of  the  opinion 
that  the  side-saddle  was  one  of  the  sacred  em- 
blems of  a  model  woman's  lop-sided  sphere. 
But,  for  all  that,  I  hold  the  lady  displayed  rare 
horsewomanship. 

I  have  dwelt  much  on  the  equine  character  of 
this  great  occasion,  because,  like  most  State  and 
county  fairs  nowadays,  it  was  little  more  than  a 
grand  horse-show,  with  an  agricultural  attachment, 
and   some   original    and   ab-original    features. 


FOOD     FOR    THE    GIANTS.  I23 

Still,  the  buildings  devoted  to  farm  products 
and  mineral  specimens  were  always  crowded,  and 
were  to  me  by  far  the  most  interesting  depart- 
ments. I  had  seen  elsewhere  as  grand-looking 
stock ;  but  nowhere  on  earth  had  I  ever  beheld 
such  immense,  such  Brobdingnagian  vegetables. 
Think  of  early  potatoes,  sound  and  sweet  to  the 
core,  weighing  six  pounds  apiece  !  Consider  a  tur- 
nip weighing  twenty-two  pounds !  Bring  your 
mind  up  to  a  cabbage  of  fifty  pounds !  Shudder 
before  an  awful  blood-beet  of  sixteen  pounds,  and 
make  obeisance  before  a  pumpkin  actually  weigh- 
ing a  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  !  I  really  rever- 
ence that  pumpkin,  that  mountain  avalanche  of 
summer  sunshine.  I  would  make  a  pulpit  of  it,  or 
the  platform  of  a  woman's  rights  convention,  or  put 
it  to  some  other  sacred  and  dignified  use.  Think 
of  Spanish  cucumbers  by  the  yard,  and  wheat,  oats, 
and  barley  more  than  six  feet  tall.  You  need  not 
be  surprised  to  have  a  Colorado  friend  write  to 
you  from  his  ranch  in  this  wise :  "  Sitting  in 
the  cool  shade  of  a  stalk  of  barley  growing  by 
my  door." 

In  examining  some  beautiful  specimens  of  grains, 


124  COLORADO. 


I  fell  into  conversation  with  the  exhibitor  and 
producer,  a  fine-looking  ranchman  named  Everett, 
an  intelligent,  thoughtful,  independent  farmer  from 
Ohio,  where  "  they  make  'em  ;  "  and  the  story  of 
his  first  enterprises  and  struggles  on  a  Colorado 
ranch  was  more  interesting  to  me  than  the  most 
thrilling  novel. 

The  display  of  gold  and  silver  ores  was  aston- 
ishing, and  must  have  been  very  tempting  to  one 
who  would  make  haste  to  be  rich,  knowing  not 
through  what  weary,  painful  days,  with  what  wast- 
ing fever-dreams,  what  sickness  of  hope  deferred, 
the  shy  vein  is  followed  to  its  deep,  dark,  secret 
lair,  and  by  what  fierce  toil  its  precious  prey  is 
torn   from    its   granite  jaws. 

After  all,  the  finest  part  of  the  show,  afford- 
ing the  most  interesting  studies  to  me,  was  the 
crowd  of  people.  Such  an  immense  gathering, 
and  augmenting  on  each  of  the  five  days  of 
rural  revelry,  and  such  infinite  variety.  There 
were  the  rich  and  fashionable,  in  elegant  turn- 
outs ;  there  were  well-dressed  ranchmen,  with  their 
families,  in  heavy  wagons  ;  miners  on  horseback  ; 
tourists,  journalists,  and  mine  superintendents  look- 


A    DENVER    CROWD.  I25 


ing  at  ores  ;  Mexicans,  with  wild  but  sleepy  dark 
faces,  costumed  roughly  yet  picturesquely  in  prevail- 
ing tints  of  brown,  —  very  much  such  figures  as  I 
once  saw  at  the  Italian  Fair  of  Grotta  Ferrata ;  Chi- 
namen, gliding  about  in  their  silent,  deprecating  way, 
with  their  mild,  melancholy  faces  ;  Indians,  with 
their  broad  faces  painted  out  of  their  natural  resem- 
blance to  humanity ;  colored  citizens,  escorting  their 
families  with  a  glad  sense  of  undisputed  owner- 
ship, lifting  up  their  heads  in  the  yet  fresh  air  of 
the  Fifteenth  Amendment ;  brave,  healthy-looking 
young  housewives,  inspecting  the  fruits  and  flowers 
and  sewing-machines  ;  nice  elderly  ladies,  examining 
the  prize  quilts  and  dairy  products  ;  pretty,  smiling 
girls,  with  their  gallant  rustic  attendants  ;  and,  best 
of  all,  rosy,  chubby,  happy  children  everywhere. 
Once,  in  making  our  way  into  the  dining-hall,  we 
got  into  a  fearful  crowd  of  hungry  people,  which 
faintly  reminded  me  of  scenes  at  the  great  Inaugu- 
ration Ball ;  and  I  shuddered  to  think  to  what  depths 
of  metropolitan  and  Federal  rudeness  and  barbarity 
even  this  virtuous  and  courteous  people  might  come, 
under  similar  circumstances.  But  at  all  other  times 
this  great  assembly  seemed  to  me  wonderfully  pleas- 


126  COLORADO. 


ant,  orderly,  and  kindly.  It  was  made  up,  in  great 
part,  of  strong,  hardy,  earnest,  and  intelligent-look- 
ing men,  —  excellent  representative  men  of  this 
noblest  of  the  Territories.  As  I  regarded  them,  I 
could  but  think  it  hard  that  they  should  be  cut  off 
from  any  of  the  political  privileges  and  dignities  of 
American  freemen  ;  that,  after  adding  so  much  to 
the  wealth  of  the  Republic,  after  having  rallied  so 
bravely  for  her  defence,  they  should  see  their  be- 
loved Territory  barred  year  after  year  out  of  her 
bright  company  of  sovereign  States. 

In  fact,  I  hear  dissatisfaction  expressed  on  all 
sides  with  the  existing  political  condition  ;  and 
this  sort  of  semi- vassal  age  of  a  people,  strong 
enough  in  character,  wealth,  and  intelligence  to 
govern  themselves,  does  seem,  at  the  best,  an 
anomaly  under  a  republic,  a  form  of  government 
whose  very  name  implies  that  it  is  "a  thing  of 
the  people."  It  is  hard  that  a  splendid  young 
province,  with,  as  Mickey  Free  says  of  Charley 
O'Malley,  "  as  much  divilment  in  him  as  thim  that 
is  twice  his  age,"  is  compelled  to  thus  "  tarry  at 
Jericho  till  his  beard  be  grown."  I  understand 
now    why    suffrage    was    first    granted    to    woman 


AN    INDIAN    POLITICIAN.  I27 

in  a  Territory.  "  A  fellow  feeling  makes  us  won- 
drous kind." 

I  doubt  not  that  political  critics  here  are  harder 
in  their  judgments  on  governors,  and  other  officers 
appointed  by  the  President,  than  they  would  be  on 
men  of  their  own  selection  and  election.  Even  the 
Indians  are  critical.  Their  favorite  was  that  gen- 
eral favorite  in  Colorado,  Governor  Hunt.  Of  him 
a  shrewd  Ute  chieftain  once  said,  "  Heap  '  how ' !  — 
heap  swap,  heap  biscuit,  —  good  !  "  When  asked  his 
opinion  of  Governor  McCook,  his  dark  brow  low- 
ered as  he  replied,  "  He  .-'  No  '  how  '  !  no  swap, 
no  biscuit."  At  the  name  of  another  Governor,  his 
haughty  lip  curled,  his  eye  flashed  scorn :  "  Ugh  ! 
heap  '  how,'  no  swap,  no  biscuit,  d — n  !  " 

It  seems  to  me  that  this  "  satrap  system,"  as 
I  hear  it  called  here,  can  best  be  defended  on  the 
principle  of  Guizot,  that  "  the  best  government  for 
the  people  is  that  which  the  people  like  least." 

I  sincerely  hope  that,  when  Colorado  comes  into 
her  appointed  place  among  the  sovereign  States, 
she  will  not  be  beguiled  by  demagogues  and  polit- 
ical tricksters,  but  will  choose  for  her  rulers  and 
representatives  true  representative  men,  actual  set- 


128  COLORADO. 


tiers  and  pioneers,  —  men  who,  in  the  early, 
tumultuous,  critical  times,  established  and  defended 
law  and  order,  often  at  the  risk  of  their  lives  and 
property.  There  are  among  these  same  old  pio- 
neers men,  yet  in  the  prime  of  life,  who  know 
these  mountains  as  Tell  knew  the  Alps,  and  Bruce 
knew  the  Highlands,  who  love  Colorado  with  a 
proud,  manly  devotion,  who  understand  her  re- 
sources, her  interests,  and  her  needs  as  no  new- 
comer can,  and  whom  she  should  honor,  as  they 
have  honored  her. 

I  shall  be  obliged  to  leave  Colorado  without 
seeing  Pike's  Peak  and  the  Garden  of  the  Gods. 
The  cold  I  took  in  coming  down  from  the  moun- 
tains resulted  in  quite  a  serious  illness,  which 
almost  laid  me  aside  altogether.  Colorado  catarrhs, 
like  Colorado  cabbages,  are  monsters  of  their  kind. 
1  hope  I  shall  live  through  mine,  —  that  it  is 
giving  way  at  last.  It  may  have  saved  me  from 
something  worse,  —  asthma,  for  instance.  But  it 
has  not  exactly  rejuvenated  me,  made  me  stronger 
than  I  was  before  on  platforms  and  constitu- 
tional amendments ;  in  short,  has  not  done  all 
for  me  that  a  stroke  of  paralysis  does  for  a  great 
statesman. 


THE    OTHER    SIDE.  I29 

It  may  be  that  heretofore  my  descriptions  of  life 
here  have  been  colored  too  much  by  my  own 
pleasant  personal  experiences.  Other  tourists,  less 
fortunate  or  enthusiastic  than  I,  might  tell  a  slight- 
ly different  story.  A  friend  now  living  in  George- 
town told  me  the  other  day  that  he  was  once  so 
unlucky  as  to  travel  from  Cheyenne  to  that  place 
just  behind  Vice-President  Colfax,  Mr.  Bowles, 
Governor  Bross,  and  others,  —  a  large  party  of 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  —  and  that  he  actually  suf- 
fered for  lack  of  food.  Now,  it  is  easy  to  under- 
stand how  Colorado,  a  land  fruitful  in  delight  to 
those  distinguished  locusts,  should  wear  quite  an- 
other and  a  more  prosaic  aspect  to  the  poor  fellow 
who  followed  and  starved   in  their  track. 

But  well  fed,  well  cared  for  in  sickness  and  in 
health,  I  can  only  paint  the  Territory  as  I  see 
it,  —  full  of  beauty  and  grandeur  and  promise ;  and 
the  people,  as  they  have  shown  themselves  to  me, 
full  of  kindly  and  generous  sympathies.  If  this 
be  exaggeration,  citizens  of  other  Territories  must 
make  the  most  of  it. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  an  imposing  and 
important  ceremony  which  lately  took  place  in  this 
6*  I 


130  COLORADO. 


vicinity.     A  party  of  clergymen  assembled  on  the 
very  summit  of  a  certain  lofty  eminence,  and  just 
at    sunrise    solemnly   dedicated    the    Rocky   Moun- 
tains  to   the    Lord.     It   was    no   light    undertaking 
to  forsake  a  comfortable  bed,  and  make  that  steep 
ascent  on  a  donkey  and  an  empty  stomach  in  the 
dreary    morning    twilight   and    chill    mountain    air ; 
and  none  but  a  body  of  pious,  devoted  men,  bent 
on  a  great  work  of  practical  benevolence,  a  whole- 
sale  missionary  enterprise,   could    have   been    equal 
to    it.     But    now    it    is    done;   and    we    may   hope 
that   stock-gambling   and   all   other   forms   of  gam- 
bling,   all     "wildcat"     operations,    all     unbrotherly 
jumping     of     claims,    all     whiskey  -  drinking,     sab- 
bath-breaking, and   profane    swearing,  will    speedily 
cease    throughout    that    vast     consecrated     region. 
We  may  expect    the   heathen    Utes   to  "come   in," 
and    look    for    larger    Republican    majorities    than 
ever.      In    short,    I    shall   leave   the    Rocky   Moun- 
tains  feeling   tolerably   easy   in   my   mind. 


UTAH. 


Salt  Lake  City,  October  13,  1871. 

WE  left  Denver,  my  brother  and  I,  on  the 
9th.  Th^  morning  was  clear  and  brilliant, 
but  very  cold ;  the  great  range  was  white  with 
snow,  and  shone  in  the  fair  sunlight  with  sur- 
passing splendor ;  while  beautiful  beyond  all  im- 
agination were  the  purple  and  violet  tints  of  the 
lower  range  and  the  foot-hills.  I  really  grieved  at 
parting  with  these  grand  shapes,  so  majestic, 
yet  so  lovely,  so  stupendous  and  awful,  yet  so  gra- 
cious and  benignant,  uplifting  the  soul,  and  filling 
it  with  thoughts  of  divine  affluence  and  power  and 

eternal  repose. 

At  Cheyenne  we  found  the  ground  white  with 
snow,  and  the  air  that  of  December.  But  we  soon 
forgot  all  these  things  —  the  winter  chill,  the  leaden 
sky  —  in  the  sorrowful  news  which  here  met  us 
of  the  terrible   fire    in    Chicago.      We   felt   that    it 


132  UTAH. 

was  almost  cruel  and  cowardly  in  us  to  pursue 
our  way  westward  ;  to  go  farther  from  dear  friends, 
suffering,  or  in  peril.  At  every  station,  till  we 
reached  Salt  Lake  City,  the  reports  grew  more 
sad  and  appalling.  It  almost  seemed  that  the 
fierce  flames  followed  us  on  the  telegraph-wire, 
and  burned  the  cruel  tidings  into  our  hearts. 
The  sadness  and  anxiety  would  have  been  almost 
intolerable  but  for  the  sympathy  and  pleasant 
companionship  of  friends  whom  we  were  fortunate 
enough  to  meet  at  Cheyenne,  —  Senator  and  Mrs. 
Morton,  their  young  son,  and  a  party  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen  from  Indianapolis.  We  were  kindly 
invited  into  their  special  car,  and  owe  to  them 
much  of  the  pleasure  and  comfort  of  the  journey. 
Laramie,  where  we  took  supper,  seems  to  me 
a  town  of  considerable  promise.  It  is  situated 
in  a  beautiful  valley,  and  has  a  spirited,  cheerful 
air.  We  reached  Sherman,  the  summit  station, 
in  a  driving  snow-storm,  with  heavy  darkness  in 
the  southern  horizon, — a  drear,  wild  scene.  But, 
even  while  we  paused  there,  the  sun  broke  forth 
radiantly;  and  we  hailed  it  as  a  happy  omen  as 
we   took   our   first    plunge    down    toward   the    Pa- 


SHERMAN,   THE   SUMMIT  STATION.  133 

cific.  I  was  amused  while  at  Sherman  by  watch- 
ing a  little  five-year-old  vender  of  quartz  crystals, 
who  stood  behind  a  rude  counter  near  the  rail- 
road track,  carrying  on  a  brisk  trade  with  the 
passengers.  It  was  a  very  small  girl,  with  a  very 
large  bonnet, — a  quaint,  droll  little  figure,  which 
Leech  would  have  delighted  to  sketch.  The  wind 
was  high,  and  had  a  way  of  snatching  off  her 
bonnet  just  as  she  was  engaged  in  making  change, 
or  putting  her  little  porteiJionnaie  into  her  little 
pocket.  She  alternated"  her  commercial  transac- 
tions with  struggles  to  retain  or  regain  her  prepos- 
terous head-covering.  To  increase  her  embarass- 
ment,  I  flung  her  some  fruit ;  and  the  last  I  saw 
of  her  she  had  just  succeeded  in  capturing  a 
pear,  which  had  rolled  down  an  embankment, 
and  was  again  in  wild  pursuit  of  her  bonnet. 
Along  here  we  found  snow-walls  and  snow-sheds, 
and  sharp,  bristling  rocks,  which,  with  the  wild 
wind  and  the  black,  stunted  pines,  made  a  pe- 
culiar and  somewhat  gloomy  landscape.  Yet,  thus 
far  on  this  journey  across  the  continent,  I  have 
failed  to  be  oppressed  by  the  weary  sense  of  des- 
olation and  monotony  I  have  heard  so  many  com- 


134  UTAH. 

plain  of.  Even  when,  after  rising  in  the  morning, 
I  looked  out  to  see  only  "  sage-brush,  rock,  and 
alkali, —  alkali,  rock,  and  sage,"  this  strange,  wild, 
forsaken  region,  this  fierce,  untamable,  outlaw  land, 
had  not  lost  for  me  its  grand  novelty,  its  sombre 
interest.  The  widest,  wildest  level  plain  has  to 
me,  not  only  grandeur,  but  absolute  beauty,  —  a 
sort  of  savagely  peaceful  and  sullenly  sublime 
beauty,  marvellously  suggestive  of  immensity,  of  in- 
finity. What  divine  affluence,  what  magnificent 
abandonment,  is  here !  How  rich  must  Nature  be 
to  afford  to  throw  away  so  much !  Once  I  saw 
from  the  bluffs  above  Denver  a  mirage, — the  de- 
lusive shining  of  waters  away  out  on  the  arid 
plain.  It  seemed  to  me  it  was  the  phantom,  the 
troubled  ghost,  of  the  sea  that  once  sounded  and 
surged  over  that  silent,  motionless  waste  of  sand. 
Our  way  through  Echo  Canon  was  one  long 
panorama  of  grand  and  lovely  views.  The  rocks 
on  the  right  are  peculiarly  bold  in  form  and  of 
indescribable  beauty  and  variety  of  coloring. 
Through  this  canon  ran  the  old  stage-route : 
through  it  passed  also  the  great  tide  of  Mormon 
emigration.      Several    strong    positions    among    the 


THE   MORMON    PILGRIMAGE.  I35 

rocks  are  pointed  out  as  having  been  fortified  by 
Brigham  Young  when  he  anticipated  an  attack 
from  government  forces  under  General  Joe  John- 
ston. A  little  way  beyond  towers  Pulpit  Rock, 
from  which  the  prophet,  priest,  and  king  of  this 
strange,  devoted  people  is  said  to  have  preached 
his  first  sermon  on  this  side  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. To  one  who  even  whirls  over  in  less  than 
four  days'  time  the  route  which  this  poor  people 
toiled  over  through  weeks  and  months,  there  must 
come  a  new  and  wondering  realization  of  the  hero- 
ism of  that  emigration,  —  an  exodus  into  a  land 
of  dim  promise,  but  of  sure  peril  and  privation, 
of  mystery,  of  isolation.  They  fought  with  savage 
foes,  they  suffered,  they  starved :  their  graves 
yet  mark  the  long,  long  way ;  but  they  never 
murmured,  nor  rebelled,  nor  entreated  to  be  led 
back  to  Egypt  or  Iowa.  No  cloud  by  day  and 
no'  fire  by  night  led  them  on,  as  they  toiled 
over  the  mountain  and  crept  across  the  plain  ; 
but  instead,  there  shone  before  them,  perhaps,  a 
prophetic  vision  of  this  pleasant  city  of  refuge, 
and  of  the  great  white  tabernacle  of  the  Saints. 
Anomalous    and    anachronistic   as    is   the    faith    of 


136  UTAH. 

this  people,  there  is  an  antique  fervor,  a  rugged 
sincerity,  a  stern  persistency,  an  unconquerable 
constancy,  about  it  which  we  must  respect, 
even  now,  when  fast  on  their  hard-earned  peace 
and  prosperity  comes  the  troublous  time,  the  tem- 
pest of  "judgment  and  fiery  indignation,"  so  long 
looming  in  the  horizon. 

Weber  Canon  is  scarcely  so  grand  as  Echo,  but 
is  very  lovely  and  picturesque.  It  has  some  pe- 
culiar rocky  formations  and  striking  points  well 
known  to  us  through  photographs,  such  as  the 
Devil's  Gate  and  the  Devil's  Slide.  Wesley,  I  be- 
lieve, objects  to  the  Devil  having  all  the  best  tunes ; 
and  it  seems  to  me  a  pity  that  some  of  the  best 
scenery  in  the  grand  New  World  should  be  ded- 
icated   to    him. 

Just  at  sunset  we  took  the  Utah  Central  at 
Ogden,  for  this  city.  The  views  of  the  Wasatch 
Mountains  and  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  all  down 
this  wonderful  valley,  are  indescribably  beautiful. 
We  stood  out  on  the  platform,  and  gazed  till  the 
purple  twilight  deepened  and  darkened,  and  that 
strange,  lifeless  inland  sea  glimmered  and  faded 
away  into  the  night. 


THE   MORMON   CAPITAL.  I37 

On  arriving  at  Salt  Lake  City,  Senator  Morton 
and  party  were  received  by  a  deputation  of  prom- 
inent citizens,  Mormon  and  Gentile.  Among  the 
latter  gentlemen  was  our  brilliant  friend  and  rel- 
ative, Honorable  Thomas  Fitch,  at  whose  charming 
house  we  are  now  staying.  Senator  Morton  was, 
I  think,  welcomed  by  both  parties,  at  this  critical 
time,  with  much  respect  and  confidence :  his 
logical  mind  and  clear,  fearless  judgment  peculiarly 
fit  him  to  look  into  this  grave  and  complicated 
matter  that  is  now  drawing  the  attention  of  the 
world  upon  them. 

The  morning  after  our  arrival  we  drove  about 
town  with  our  kind  friend  Mr.  Hooper,  and  were 
(may  I  confess  it  ?)  quite  delighted  with  the  gen- 
eral appearance  of  the  city  which  had  so  often 
been  held  up  to  our  righteous  horror  as  a  con- 
gregation of  "  whited  sepulchres."  One  is  first 
struck  by  the  generous  width  of  the  streets  and 
the  vast  number  of  trees.  Few  of  the  dwelling- 
houses  are  elegant  or  tasteful,  but  they  all  look 
comfortable  and  sufficiently  homelike.  Embowered 
by  foliage,  they  have  a  singularly  secluded  air. 
Some   of    them   might    have   more    tidy   surround- 


138  UTAH. 

ings,  and  a  brighter,  livelier,  more  hospitable  look ; 
but  I  remarked  nothing  particularly  sombre,  pa- 
gan, or  polygamous  about  them.  The  poorest  and 
smallest  houses  seemed  to  me  an  infinite  advance 
on  the  homes  of  the  English  and  Welsh  laborers 
I  had  seen  abroad.  The  little  streams  of  clear 
mountain  water  running  through  all  the  streets 
are  a  bright,  peculiar  feature  ;  but  pleasanter  even 
than  running  water  is  the  appearance  everywhere 
of  quiet  industry  and  brave  enterprise,  order,  and 
sobriety.  Let  us  confess  that  this  strange  people, 
under  their  remarkable  leader,  have  done  a  great 
work  in  rescuing  this  region  from  the  desolation 
and  sterility  of  uncounted  ages  ;  in  causing  beau- 
ty and  plenty  to  smile  under  the  shadow  of  the 
dark  mountains  and  along  the  shore  of  the  slug- 
gish salt   sea. 

The  only  odd  —  that  is,  monstrously  odd  — 
building  here  is  the  new  Tabernacle.  That  looks 
like  no  other  edifice  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
So  might  have  looked  Noah's  ark  had  it  been 
capsized,  and  left  high  and  dry  on  Ararat,  keel 
upward. 

In    the    old   Tabernacle   we   yesterday   attended 


BRIGHAM    YOUNG.  139 


a  mass  meeting',  called  by  the  Mayor  to  raise 
money  for  the  relief  of  the  Chicago  sufferers. 
Here  we  saw  Brigham  Young ;  and  I  must  confess 
to  a  great  surprise.  I  had  heard  many  descrip- 
tions of  his  personal  appearance  ;  but  I  could  not 
recognize  the  picture  so  often  and  elaborately 
painted.  I  did  not  see  a  common,  gross-looking 
person,  with  rude  manners,  and  a  sinister,  sensual 
countenance,  but  a  well-dressed,  dignified  old  gen- 
tleman, with  a  pale  face,  a  clear  gray  eye,  a 
pleasant  smile,  a  courteous  address,  and  withal  a 
patriarchal,  paternal  air,  which,  of  course,  he  comes 
rightly  by.  In  short,  I  could  see  in  his  face  or 
manner  none  of  the  profligate  propensities  and 
the  dark  crimes  charged  against  this  mysterious, 
masterly,  many-sided,  and  many-wived  man.  The 
majority  of  the  citizens  of  Salt  Lake  present  on 
this  occasion  were  Mormons,  —  some  of  them  the 
very  polygamists  arraigned  for  trial ;  and  it  was  a 
strange  thing  to  see  these  men,  standing  at  bay, 
with  "  the  people  of  the  United  States "  against 
them,  giving  generously  to  their  enemies.  It  either 
shows  that  they  have,  underlying  their  fanatical 
faith   and    their    Mohammedan    practices,   a    better 


14°  UTAH. 


religion  of  humanity,  or  that  they  understand  the 
wisdom  of  a  return  of  good  for  evil  just  at  this 
time.  It  is  either  rare  Christian  charity  or  masterly 
worldly  policy ;  or,  perhaps,  it  is  about  half  and 
half  Human  nature  is  a  good  deal  mixed  out 
here.  But  I  do  not  suppose  it  will  matter  to  the 
people  of  dear,  desolate  Chicago  what  the  motive 
was  that  prompted  the  generous  offerings  from 
this  fair  city  among  the  mountains.  The  hands 
stretched  out  in  help,  whether  polygamic  or  mo- 
nogamic,  are  to  them  the  hands  of  friends  and  broth- 
ers. Certain  it  is  that  the  Saints  seemed  to  give 
gladly  and  promptly,  according  to  their  means.  Presi- 
dent Young  gave  in  his  thousand,  and  the  elders 
their  five  hundred  each,  as  quietly  as  the  poor  breth- 
ren and  sisters  their  modest  tribute  of  fractional 
currency.  It  is  thought  that  Utah  will  raise  at 
least  twenty  thousand  dollars. 

There  is  to  me,  I  must  acknowledge,  in  this 
prompt  and  liberal  action  of  the  Mormon  people, 
something  strange  and  touching.  It  is  Hagar 
ministering  to  Sarah  :  it  is  Ishmael  giving  a 
brotherly   lift   to   Isaac. 


GENERAL   VIEWS.  I41 

October  17,  1S71. 

The  more  I  see  of  this  place  the  more  I  am 
impressed  by  the  wonderful,  wild  beauty  of  its  sur- 
roundings. Each  of  two  windows  out  of  which  I 
can  look  as  I  write  is  the  frame  of  an  enchanting 
picture,  —  the  green  and  fruitful  valley,  dotted  with 
pleasant  homes  ;  the  distant  shining  of  water  ;  brown 
plateau  ;  dark  canons  ;  mountains,  bold  and  jagged 
and  snow-crowned,  with  their  bleak  slojoes  softened 
here  and  there  with  lovely  autumn  tints.  The 
mountains  are  far  less  grand  than  those  seen  from 
Denver,  but  they  are  much  nearer,  and  are  seldom 
obscured  by  mists.  The  cold  season  was  inaugu- 
rated here  by  a  furious  wind,  rain,  and  snow  storm. 
The  nights  are  almost  wintry,  but  the  mornings 
are  brilliant,  the  days  dazzling  with  keen,  continuous 
sunlight,  and  the  sunsets  gorgeous  beyond  descrip- 
tion. On  Saturday  we  drove  up  the  valley,  finding 
charming  new  views  at  every  rise  or  turn.  The 
whole  region  has  a  singularly  foreign  aspect,  strange 
and  ancient  and  solemn.  In  its  strong  contrasts 
of  gardens  and  waste  places,  of  busy  life  and  silent 
desolation,  of  hoary  mount  and  arid  plain,  it  cer- 
tainly, independent  of  Scripture  nomenclature,  re- 
minds one  of  Palestine. 


142  UTAH. 

In  coming  in,  we  drove  past  the  residence  of 
President  Young,  the  Lion  House.  In  that 
house  there  are  many  mansions  ;  that  is,  the  vari- 
ous dwelhngs  required  for  that  vast  extension  ar- 
rangement, the  imperial  polygamic  family,  are  most- 
ly within  one  enclosure.  The  wall  is  high  and 
broad,  and  gives  a  look  of  seclusion  and  dignity 
to  the  place.  Within  these  walls  are  also  the 
"  tithing-houses,"  to  which  the  Mormon  farmers, 
gardeners,  and  fruit-raisers  bring  yearly  a  tenth  part 
of  their  produce.  Merchants,  manufacturers,  me- 
chanics, miners,  etc.,  bring  a  tenth  part  of  their 
income.  This  seems  hard  in  some  cases  ;  but  I 
doubt  not  that  in  most  cases  this  contribution  to 
the  mother  church  that  brooded  them  so  well  in 
their  callow  days  is  cheerfully  made  ;  and  I  am 
assured  that,  under  the  direction  and  superintend- 
ence of  their  wise  old  leader,  workingmen  of  the 
classes  which  here  "  most  do  congregate "  do  far 
better  with  their  remaining  nine  tenths  than  they 
could  do  elsewhere  without  such  direction  and  su- 
perintendence. Adjoining  the  Lion  House  grounds 
is  Temple  Block.  Here  are,  in  addition  to  the 
foundation    of  the    great    Temple,    the    Tabernacle 


MORMON    OFFICIAL    BUILDINGS.  I43 

and  the  Endowment  House.  The  Temple  is  to  be 
built  of  native  granite  (which,  by  the  way,  is  of 
a  very  fine  quality),  and  is  expected  to  cost  several 
millions.  The  plan  was  given  to  Brigham  Young 
in  a  vision  :  let  us  hope  by  the  spirit  of  Michael 
Angelo  or  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  if  agreeable  to 
them.  Architecturally  the  new  Tabernacle  is  scarce- 
ly an  improvement  on  the  old,  except  in  size.  It 
is  the  plainest  possible  structure  ;  but  there  is  about 
it  a  sort  of  grotesque  grandeur  of  originality  and 
immensity.  Acoustically  it  is  thought  a  great  suc- 
cess ;  but  when  not  filled,  there  is  an  unpleasant 
reverberation,  giving  the  effect  of  two  distinct  ser- 
vices in  full  blast.  The  other  day,  when  one  of 
the  Mormon  preachers  was  defending  "  the  insti- 
tution," and  waxed  bold  and  passionate,  a  clear, 
emphatic  echo  to  each  word  seemed  to  come  from 
somewhere  away  down  below.  The  Endowment 
House  is  where  the  "  plural  marriages "  all  take 
place,  with  various  forms  and  ceremonies.  I  am 
told  by  a  gentleman  who  has  access  to  the  records, 
that  within  the  past  year  or  two  there  has  been 
a  great  and  significant  falling  off  in  the  business 
of  this   establishment.     The  numerical    majority    of 


144  UTAH. 

women  in  the  Territory  is  not  so  great  as  it  once 
was :  railroads  and  telegraphs,  and  discoveries  of 
mines,  travel  and  traffic,  bring  new  men,  new 
ideas,  new   light. 

The  theatre  is  a  large  and  handsome  building, 
a  really  wonderful  structure,  considering  the  time 
when  it  was  built,  —  before  the  prosperous  days, 
when  everything  had  to  be  done  by  the  hardest, 
—  when  all  materials  for  building  were  fearfully 
expensive,  and  difficult  to  obtain  at  any  price, — 
when,  to  use  the  strong  language  of  a  poetic  friend, 
"  the  very  stones  cost  blood."  A  Mormon  gen- 
tleman tells  me  that  the  theatre  was  built,  more 
as  a  necessity  than  a  luxury,  to  relieve  the  wea- 
risome monotony  and  isolation  of  life  out  here. 
The  leaders,  sagacious  as  indulgent,  saw  that  the 
people  must  have  some  relaxation  and  recreation. 
In  those  early  days,  there  was  little  money  in  the 
town,  and  people  were  allowed  to  pay  at  the  door 
in  grain,  potatoes,  —  almost  any  marketable  com- 
modity. 

We  attended  service  in  the  new  Tabernacle  on 
Sunday  morning.  The  building  was  not  filled,  — 
it   takes  fifteen  thousand   people  to  do  that,  —  but 


SERVICE   IN   THE   GREAT    TABERNACLE.  14$ 


we  had  a  tolerably  good  opportunity  to  observe 
the  character  and  appearance  of  a  Mormon  assem- 
bly. Brigham  Young  was  in  his  usual  place  of 
honor,  but  did  not  preach,  because  of  some  ail- 
ment of  the  chest  from  which  he  is  suffering.  He 
is  habitually  pale  of  late ;  but  nothing  of  anxiety  or 
even  nervousness  is  betrayed  in  his  proud,  set  face. 
Neither  is  there  anything  of  bluster  or  bravado  in 
his  manner  and  conversation.  He  has  rather  the 
look  and  air  of  a  man  who  has  met  and  overcome 
so  much  opposition,  so  many  difficulties,  that  a  cool 
and  quiet  confidence  in  his  own  particular  star  has 
become  the  habit  of  his  mind.  He  would  call  it  reli- 
ance upon  God  ;  but  I  believe  there  is  in  the  man 
less  fanaticism  than  fatalism,  —  that  magnificent  con- 
ceit of  imperial  and  magnetic  natures,  of  all  mould- 
ers of  systems,  and  masters  and  leaders  of  men. 

The  services  in  that  prodigious  and  portentous 
temple  of  this  new,  old  faith  —  this  strange  con- 
glomerate of  Christianity,  Judaism,  and  Mohamme- 
danism —  were  quite  simple,  orderly,  and  orthodox 
in  character.  There  was  prayer,  choir-singing,  music 
of  the  great  organ,  and  a  sermon  from  a  text,  fol- 
lowed by  two  volunteer  discourses.  The  last  was  by 
7 


146  UTAH. 

Brother  Cannon,  editor  of  the  Deseret  News,  one 
of  the  ablest  speakers,  debaters,  and  writers  among 
this  pecuHar  people,  and  a  very  pleasant  gentleman. 
It  was  noticeable  that  all  the  speakers  on  this  oc- 
casion were  on  the  defensive  in  regard  to  both  the 
civil  and  religious  character  of  their  theocratic  gov- 
ernment, and  especially  in  regard  to  the  institution 
of  polygamy.  There  was  a  large  attendance  of  Gen- 
tiles ;  and  the  present  critical  situation  of  the  Mor- 
mon Church  and  its  "beloved  and  venerable  head" 
was  touched  upon  with  considerable  spirit  and  feel- 
ing, but  with,  on  the  whole,  caution  and  moderation. 
It  is  true  they  spoke  of  possible  martyrdom,  of 
holding  themselves  ready  to  die  for  the  faith  deliv- 
ered to  the  Saints  ;  but  nothing  was  said  or  inti- 
mated of  actual  rebellion  against  the  authority  of 
the  United  States.  Indeed,  there  were  strong  pro- 
fessions of  loyalty  and  a  law-abiding  spirit.  Mr. 
Cannon  eulogized  very  eloquently  the  general  char- 
acter of  the  Mormons,  claimed  that  before  the  influx 
of  the  Gentiles  they  were  the  most  peaceful,  con- 
tented, industrious,  thrifty  people  on  the  continent ; 
that  they  were  still  the  most  temperate,  virtuous, 
and  inoffensive.     He  claimed  that  women  were  more 


SENTIMENTS   OF    THE   LEADERS.  147 


respected  and  safer  from  insult  among  the  Mormons 
than  in  any  other  community ;  that  any  woman 
could  travel  alone  through  Utah  as  securely  and 
honorably  as  the  fair  lady  of  legend  and  song,  who, 
though  "rich  and  rare  were  the  gems  she  wore," 
made  a  pilgrimage  through  Ireland  in  its  palmy 
and  pious  days.  I  am  inclined  to  think  the 
speaker  in  that  last  assertion  spoke  only  truth.  I 
believe,  also,  that  Mormon  husbands  are  generally 
kind  in  their  treatment  of  their  several  wives. 
Otherwise,  the  condition  would  be  too  utterly  in- 
tolerable for  human  woman-nature,  however  much 
sanctified   and   "  sealed." 

Though  Mr.  Cannon  handled  polygamy  boldly 
and  fully,  he  did  not  defend  it  on  philosophical 
or  physiological  principles,  or  on  grounds  of  po- 
litical or  domestic  economy,  but  simply  on  a  "  thus- 
saith-the-Lord  "  presumption,  as  a  religious  doctrine 
and  duty  imposed  by  direct  Divine  command. 
Here  they  stand  entrenched.  No  arguments  can 
move  them,  no  logic  or  sentiment  can  touch  them. 
Granted  the  divine  authority  and  inspiration  of 
Joseph  Smith  and  Brigham  Young,  the  acceptance 
of  polygamy  follows  as   a  matter   of  course.     The 


148  UTAH. 

speaker  declared  that  the  carrying  out  of  this 
command  was  a  cross  to  both  the  brethren  and 
sisters,  opposed  as  it  was  to  the  old  tastes  and 
prejudices,  and  especially  repugnant  to  the  un- 
chastened  impulses  of  woman's  nature.  I  should 
think  so. 

You  hear  a  good  deal  about  that  "  cross "  from 
both  Mormon  husbands  and  wives,  but  you  only 
see  the  shadow  of  it  in  the  faces  of  the  women. 
I  do  not  mean  to  intimate  that  they  all  look  de- 
cidedly unhappy.  There  is  rather  in  their  faces 
a  quiet,  baffling,  negative,  and  abnegative  expres- 
sion, which  certainly  is  as  far  from  happy  con- 
tent as  it  is  from  desperate  rebellion.  Naturally, 
they  are  more  alive  to  the  outside  pressure  of 
public  opinion,  more  sensitive  to  the  obloquy 
and  ostracism  which  their  position  provokes,  than 
men.  Patient  and  passive  as  they  seem,  they 
feel  these  things  keenly,  —  the  more  intelligent 
among  them,  at  least  ;  and,  though  upheld  by  a 
sincere  faith  in  this  strange  delusion,  they  have 
toward  strangers  a  peculiar  air  of  reticence  and 
mistrust,  almost  of  repulsion.  I  do  not  wonder 
at  it  :    their  hospitality    and    confidence  have  often 


MORMON   WIVES.  149 


been  abused  ;  they  have  been  intruded  upon  by 
impertinent  interviewers,  and  their  reluctant  an- 
swers to  persistent  questioning  published  abroad, 
with  startling  additions  and  dramatic  embellish- 
ments. Those  I  have  met  appear  to  me,  I  must 
say,  like  good  and  gentle  Christian  women.  They 
are  singularly  simple  in  dress  and  modest  in  de- 
meanor. What  saddens  me  is  their  air  of  extreme 
quietude,  retirement,  and  repression.  But  for  the 
children  around  them,  you  would  think  some  of 
them  were  women  who  had  done  with  this  world. 
I  am  told  that  the  wives  of  even  the  highest 
Mormon  dignitaries  show  little  pride  in  their  lords. 
It  were,  perhaps,  difficult  to  feel  much  pride  in  the 
sixteenth  part  of  a  man,  as  men  go.  Even  the 
first  wife  of  a  wealthy  saint  betrays  in  her  hus- 
band and  household,  they  say,  no  exultant  joy  of 
possession.  An  investment  in  a  Mormon  heart 
and  home  must  be  rather  uncertain  stock  for  a 
woman.  I  am  assured,  though,  that  the  second 
wife  is  seldom  taken  without  the  consent  of  the 
first.  Not  only  are  the  poor  woman's  religious 
faith  and  zeal  appealed  to,  but  her  magnanimity 
toward  her  sister-woman  out  in  the  cold.     It  must 


150  UTAH. 

be  through  great  suffering  that  such  heights  of 
self-abnegation  are  reached.  The  crucifixion  of  the 
divine  weakness  of  a  loving  vi^oman's  heart  must  be 
a  severe  process.  But  there  is  some  sorry  comfort 
in  the  thought  that  for  these  poor  polygamous 
wives  there  is  no  wearing  uncertainty,  no  feverish 
anxiety ;  that  they  are  spared  the  bitterest  pain  of 
jealousy,  the  vague  nightmare  torture  of  suspicion, 
the  grief  and  horror  of  the  final  discovery,  the 
fierce  sense  of  treachery  and  deception.  They  know 
the  worst.  Perhaps  it  is  this  dead  certainty  that 
gives  them  the  peculiar,  cold,  still  look  I  have  re- 
ferred to.  As  to  the  Mormon  men  whom  I  have 
met,  mostly  leaders  in  the  church,  and  prominent, 
well-to-do  citizens,  I  must  say  that  they  look  re- 
markably care-free,  and  even  jolly,  under  the  cross. 
Virgil,  I  believe,  has  somewhere  the  expression, 
"  O  three  times  and  four  times  happy ! "  Well, 
that   is   the   way   they   look. 

It  was  easy  to  see  by  the  discourses  on  Sun- 
day that  there  is  in  the  church  something  of 
solicitude,  if  not  consternation,  in  regard  to  the 
situation  of  its  President,  arraigned  for  high  crimes 
and   misdemeanors    before  a   hostile   local    tribunal, 


A    MORMON    CONGREGATION.  151 

from  which  there  is  no  appeal.  But  each  speaker 
professed  perfect  reliance  on  that  God  who  had 
once  delivered  them  out  of  the  hands  of  their  ene- 
mies, and  led  them  across  the  desert,  and  blessed 
them  with  peace  and  abundance  in  this  pleasant 
land.  As  they  spoke  thus,  strangely  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  mingling  faith  with  fatalism,  and  submis- 
sion with  resistance,  and  humility  with  arrogance, 
like  the  specious  reasoners,  practised  debaters,  and 
clever  and  confident  managers  of  men  that  they 
are,  the  faces  of  their  Mormon  hearers  glowed  with 
a  quiet  satisfaction  and  a  revival  of  the  old  fa- 
natical fervor  which,  I  am  told,  had  begun  to  die 
out  of  these  people,  perhaps  with  the  incoming  of 
new  social  influences,  and  the  increase  of  worldly 
prosperity  and  ease.  It  only  needed  a  blast  of 
persecution    to   fan    the   dying   flame. 

I  marked  in  this  audience  many  a  rugged,  manly 
head,  and  now  and  then  a  fine,  strong  face,  hon- 
estly earnest  and  hungry  for  truth  ;  but  little  in- 
dication of  refinement  or  culture,  or,  except  among 
the  leaders,  of  decided  characteristic  worldly  shrewd- 
ness. It  was  a  great  congregation  of  common  peo- 
ple,  rising   slowly  from    an    uncommonly   low   con- 


152  UTAH. 

dition  of  life  and  intelligence.  Utah  is  the  poor 
man's  paradise,  and  that  is  the  best  of  it.  The 
worst  of  it  is,  that  the  trail  of  the  polygamous 
serpent  is  over  it  all.  Till  a  laborer  gets  rich 
enough  to  support  two  wives,  he  can  live  as  de- 
cently and  virtuously  here  as  in  any  tenement - 
house  in  New  York.  None  of  the  religious  forms 
and  observances  short  of  those  of  the  Endowment 
House  harm  him  much.  Were  it  not  for  this 
one  reproach,  the  Mayor  and  Common  Council  of 
Salt  Lake  City  could  stand  up  before  the  chiefs 
of  Tammany  and  be  bold,  boasting  that  they 
rule  over  a  city  where  among  their  own  people 
there  are  no  riots,  no  rings,  no  burglaries,  no 
drinking -saloons,  no  gambling- hells,  no  disorderly 
and  infamous  houses  of  any  kind,  no  street - 
beggars,  no  incendiaries,  no  prize-fighters,  —  a  city 
in  which  wages  are  high  and   taxes  are  low. 

Yesterday  we  drove  out  into  the  country  to  take 
a  look  at  some  of  the  farms.  They  have  a  neat, 
thriving  appearance,  with  good  buildings,  and  show 
evidences  of  having  produced  fine  crops.  The  irri- 
gating ditches  are  everywhere  beautifying,  having 
more   the   look   of   natural    streams    than   those    in 


MORMON     FARMS.  153 


Colorado.  All  the  farm-houses  are  surrounded 
with  /oliage.  Brigham  Young  is  a  great  lover  of 
tre©6,  and  seems  to  make  their  culture  a  tenet 
of  his  religion.  As  the  old  lady  said  of  total 
depravity,  "  It 's  a  good  doctrine  if  well  lived  up 
to."  Utah  fruit  is  not  of  the  finest  quahty,  as 
little  attention  has  yet  been  paid  to  its  cultivation, 
but  it  is  grown  in  great  abundance  and  consider- 
able variety.  It  is  a  consolation,  while  looking  at 
these  pleasant,  homelike  places,  to  remember  that 
not  more  than  one  tenth  part  of  the  people  of 
Utah  are  polygamists.  It  is  also  something  to 
know  that  even  amongst  the  poorest  the  different 
wives  do  not  live  actually  together.  Each  has  a 
house,  or  half  a  house,  or  a  set  of  rooms,  to  her- 
self Mr.  Godbe,  the  able  leader  of  the  leading 
sect  called  after  him,  professes  to  base  his  oppo- 
sition to  polygamy  on  the  fact  of  its  being  "at 
variance  with  the  principle  of  woman's  equality 
with  man,  and  therefore  inimical  to  her  happi- 
ness."    That  is  the  true  ground  to  stand  upon. 

October  20. 

A  few  days  ago  we  drove  out   to   Camp  Doug- 
las,  which   has   a  grand  position,    close  up   against 
7» 


154  UTAH. 

the  mountains,  and  commanding  the  town.  The 
late  reinforcements,  sent  on  in  view  of  the  situa- 
tion, give  to  this  fine  miUtary  position  a  very  busy 
and  belligerent  air.  The  barracks  seem  full,  and 
there  are  several  companies  encamped  on  the  first 
plateau.  What  a  magnificent  mark  for  artillery 
would  the  great  Tabernacle  be  from  here  !  It  seems 
to  me  that  a  good,  moral,  monogamous  mortar 
would  almost  open  upon  it  of  itself.  But  I  don't  be- 
lieve that  any  of  these  mighty  engines  of  a  Christian 
civilization  will  be  brought  into  play  on  the  strong- 
holds of  the  survivor  of  the  famous  "  twin  bar- 
barisms "  very  soon.  I  don't  believe  these  brave 
fellows  are  to  have  an  early  opportunity  to  mow 
down  saints  militant  by  the  score,  and  make  wid- 
ows by  the  fourscore.  It  is  true,  this  people 
are  roused,  rallied,  and  consolidated  by  legal  pro- 
ceedings, which  they  consider  religious  persecu- 
tions and  blasphemous  indignities  offered  to  their 
divinely  inspired  leader,  and  doubtless  would  break 
out  in  open  rebellion  if  he  should  say  the  word. 
But  he  will  not  say  the  word.  Age  has  not  only 
frosted  his  head,  but  sprinkled  cool  patience  on 
his  bold  and  fiery  spirit.     However  it  was  at  first, 


POLYGAMOUS  PROBLEMS.  155 

I  am  convinced  that  he  has  grown  to  believe  in 
himself  and  his  mission.  He  says,  "  If  my  work 
is  a  good  work,  it  will  stand.  If  our  religion  is 
of  God,  it  cannot  be  put  down."  The  world  he 
went  out  of  thirty  years  ago  has  followed  him,  and 
surrounded  him  in  his  rocky  fastnesses,  and  he  is 
facing  the  situation  with  a  good  deal  of  dignity. 
When  arraigned  the  other  day  he  showed  no  re- 
sentment or  dismay,  but  quietly  and  firmly  plead- 
ed  "  not   guilty "    to    the   charge   or   charges. 

I  cannot  but  think  it  a  matter  to  be  regretted 
that  there  could  not  have  been  a  fair  open  fight 
against  that  most  monstrous  anomaly  of  our  age 
and  country,  that  most  unnatural  and  audacious 
alliance  of  civilization  with  barbarism,  —  the  insti- 
tution of  polygamy  itself  If  that  cannot  be  at- 
tacked directly  and  effectually  through  present 
laws,  would  it  not  have  been  better  to  have  wait- 
ed till  laws  could  be  framed  to  grapple  with  it 
and  overthrow  it  utterly  ?  Or  could  we  not  have 
depended  on  moral  means,  —  brought  against  a 
system  born  of  delusion  and  a  spirit  of  desperate 
propagandism,  and  nourished  by  ignorance  and  iso- 
lation, the  power  of  a  higher   civilization,   a  purer 


156  UTAH. 

religion  ?  Already  it  is  being  weakened  and  under- 
mined by  the  subtle,  restless,  perpetually  augment- 
ing forces  of  commerce  and  social  intercourse,  — 
education,  literature,  free  thought,  —  by  the  railroad, 
the  telegraph,  the  printing-press.  It  is  girdled  with 
a  fire  of  intelligence.  Light,  love,  death,  are  allied 
against  it.  As  it  is,  a  sort  of  legal  trap  has 
been  sprung  upon  the  polygamists.  They  are  ar- 
raigned, and  are  to  be  tried  under  an  old  statute 
passed  by  a  Mormon  Legislature  against  "  adultery," 
as  they  understood  that  crime.  Of  course,  the 
law  must  be  twisted  from  the  original  spirit  and 
intention  to  be  made  to  bear  upon  plural  mar- 
riages. Brigham  Young,  as  governor,  signed  this 
statute,  the  most  severe  upon  record,  against  that 
particular  crime.  He  must  now  regard  that  sig- 
nature as  the  slain  eagle  regarded  the  familiar 
feather  "  that  winged  the  shaft  that  pierced  him 
to  the  heart." 

I  know  that  there  are  at  this  time  many,  not 
only  politicians  and  speculators,  but  good,  honest. 
Christian  people,  who  look  on  these  prosecutions 
in  Utah  with  joy  and  full  approval.  They  see, 
under  the    iron    grip   of    the   law,    polygamy,   not 


THE    MORMON     LEADER.  157 

only  struck  with  death,  but  already  in  articiilo 
mortis ;  but  I  must  confess  that,  whichever  way 
I  regard  the  probable  issue,  I  feel  some  anxiety 
and  misgiving.  Unless  the  principal  prosecution 
be  carried  through  sternly  and  triumphantly,  and 
this  powerful,  defiant  representative  of  a  polyga- 
mic theocracy,  this  New  World  Mohammed,  be  hum- 
bled," rebuked,  dispossessed  of  his  dominion  and 
his  harem  ;  unless  he  is  punished  as  any  poor 
man  would  be  punished  for  the  same  crime,  under 
the  same  law ;  if  there  is  any  giving  way,  any 
retreat,  any  failure  on  the  part  of  the  govern- 
ment, it  seems  to  me  that  the  result  can  but 
be  a  disaster  for  us,  and  a  triumph  for  Mormon- 
ism.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  law  be  inexorably 
executed,  and  its  utmost  penalties  inflicted,  there 
will  almost  inevitably  follow  trouble,  confusion, 
strife,  even  bloodshed.  Whatever  evil  can  be  said 
of  Brigham  Young,  however  dark  and  blood- 
stained pages  of  his  record  may  be,  the  man 
loves  his  fellow-men,  in  his  way,  and  is  loved  by 
them.'  The  poorest  and  humblest  of  his  followers 
love  him  the  most  devotedly  and  blindly.  The 
little   they   have   and  are  they  owe   to    him.      He 


158  UTAH. 

took  them  from  the  black  mines  and  crowded 
factories,  from  the  garrets  and  cellars  and  slums 
of  Europe  ;  brought  them  to  a  land  of  promise ; 
taught  them  how  to  work,  to  live  ;  expounded 
to  them  a  religion  simple,  perhaps  gross  enough 
for  their  comprehension,  yet  having  about  it 
something  that  appeals  strongly  to  their  undisci- 
ciplined  imaginations.  Arbitrary,  ambitious,  av- 
aricious though  he  be,  he  has  been  to  them 
prince,  priest,  prophet,  and  father.  I  believe  they 
will  never  quietly  look  on,  and  see  him  impris- 
oned or  any  way  harshly  dealt  with.  Resistance 
against  the  whole  power  of  the  United  States 
may  be  rash  and  hopeless,  —  even  to  them  it  must 
look  so ;  but  nothing  is  so  rash,  so  mad,  as  fa- 
naticism. I  believe  that  in  the  last  extremity 
they  will  fight  for  him,  even  against  his  will  ;  and 
there  are  a  hundred  thousand  of  them.  As  no 
Mormon  can  be  expected  to  render  a  "just  ver- 
dict, according  to  the  law  and  the  testimony,"  in 
this  case,  as  no  polygamist  can  possibly  be 
qualified,  the  jury  must,  of  course,  be  packed. 
What  it  was  thought  not  a  good  or  a  safe  thing 
to    do    in    Richmond,   in    the    case    of   the    chief 


RESULTS    OF    A    CRASH.  159 


of  the   Confederacy,    may,  perhaps,   be    righteously 
and   safely  done    in    Salt    Lake    City,  in    the   case 
of  the   despised   leader  of    an   outcast   people  ;  but 
in    establishing    so    perilous    a   precedent,    may   we 
not    pay    too    dearly   for   even   the   great   good   of 
the   destruction   of    polygamy  and    Mormonism   to- 
gether,   the    breaking   up   of    this  wicked,  thriving 
community  ;    the    scattering   of    this    deluded    peo- 
ple    as     mendicants     and     missionaries     over     the 
world,    and    the    restoration   of    all    this    perverted 
region   to   its   primitive  innocence   and    desolation  ? 
The    hardest    consequences   of    the    sudden    and 
forcible    breaking    up    of  the    system   of   polygamy 
would    be   visited    on    the    ones    who    suffer   most 
everywhere,    in    social    convulsions    and    overturn- 
ings,   and    are    everywhere    the   least   guilty,  —  the 
women    and    children.     It    would    take    from    hun- 
dreds   of    Mormon   wives    the    little    title    to    the 
world's   tolerance   they    now   possess,   destroy    their 
self-respect,     and    drive    them    from     their  —  from 
the    places    they    call    home.      They    have    mostly 
entered   on    the   relation    in    good  faith,   in    a   blind 
belief    that   it  was   of    Divine   appointment.     Even 
when  convinced  of  their   error,  dishonor  and  want 


l6o  UTAH. 

have  barred  their  way  of  escape,  and  children's 
arms  have  held  them  back.  Aside  from  their 
own  interests  or  belief,  they  oppose  a  measure 
which  would  scatter  and  bastardize  their  chil- 
dren. For  these  reasons  the  women  of  Utah, 
though  in  full  possession  of  the  ballot,  have  failed 
to  fulfil  the  prophecy  of  Miss  Dickinson,  to 
"vote   themselves   free    and   virtuous." 

You  are  struck  by  the  great  number  of  chil- 
dren everywhere  here.  Some  houses  absolutely 
overflow  with  them,  some  tables  are  embowered 
in  "  olive  branches."  The  different  sets  get  along 
very  well  together  generally  ;  but  that  is  little 
wonder,  after  the  miracle  of  agreement  between 
the  mothers.  Polygamy  does  not  seem  to  spare 
women  the  cares  of  maternity.  I  know  a  Mor- 
mon household  in  which  two  middle-aged  wives 
count  about  two  dozen  children  between  them. 
I  took  two  little  fair-haired  girls  for  twins  ;  and 
they  were  a  sort  of  polygamic  twins,  born  almost 
at  the  same  time,  in  the  same  house,  of  dif- 
ferent mothers.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  children 
here  do  not  look  as  happy  and  bright  as  in 
our  towns  ;  I   fancy  that   the   little    girls,  at   least, 


MORMON     WIVES    AND     CHILDREN.  l6l 

have  something  of  the  subdued,  repressed  look 
of  their  mothers.  But  some  few  of  them  are 
pretty,  and  nearly  all  neatly  and  comfortably 
dressed.  I  hear  that  they  have  very  good  schools, 
and  are  under  good  discipline  at  home,  answering 
to  the  roll-call  at  night,  and  duly  honoring  their 
father   and   their   mothers. 

Many  Mormon  wives  are  sisters,  and  it  is  said 
they  get  along  quite  harmoniously.  The  very  na- 
ture of  women  seems  to  be  changed  here,  and 
turned  upside  down  and  inside  out.  An  intelli- 
gent "  first  wife "  told  a  Gentile  neighbor  that  the 
only  wicked  feeling  she  had  about  her  husband 
taking  a  second  wife  was  that  he  did  not  take 
her  sister,  who  wanted  him,  or,  rather,  a  share  in 
him.  She  would  have  liked  to  have  the  property 
kept  in  the  family.  I  saw,  the  other  day,  a 
pair  of  young  wives,  sisters,  walking  hand  in  hand, 
dressed  alike  in  every  particular,  of  the  same 
height  and  complexion,  and  of  the  same  apparent 
age ;  indeed,  looking  so  exactly  alike  that  it  was 
almost  a  case  of  mitigated  bigamy.  It  must 
seem  queer,  even  to  them,  to  say  "  our  husband," 
as  they  used  to  say  "  our  piano  "  or  "  our  pony." 

X 


l62  UTAH. 

The  most  singular  and  unnatural  marriages 
here  are  those  of  men  with  their  wives'  mothers. 
These  are  not  unfrequent.  It  strikes  me  this  is 
a  seditious  plot  against  immemorial  domestic  au- 
thority, the  most  ancient  court  of  feminine  ap- 
peal,—  that  it  is  an  attempt  to  do  away  with 
mothers-in-law.  When  young  wives  are  taken, 
the  three  or  four  or  five  do  not  always  become 
one  flesh ;  there  is  sometimes  rebellion  and  even 
hostility  on  the  part  of  the  old  wife.  Occasion- 
ally a  husband  objects  to  having  even  a  second 
wife  imposed  on  him.  I  heard  of  one  the  other 
day  who,  though  he  finally  submitted  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  imperial  Brigham  that  he  should 
take  and  provide  for  a  certain  poor  woman,  — 
"  a  lone,  lorn  cretur,"  —  declared  that  he  couldn't 
"  abear  her,"  and  at  once  put  her  away  on  a 
ranch  forty  miles  from  town  —  pensioned  and 
pastured  her  out.  This  system  has  its  serious 
and  perplexing  aspect ;  it  is  a  fearful  problem, 
which,  like  the  riddle  of  the  sphynx,  may  prove 
the  destruction  of  those  who  attempt  rashly  to 
solve  it  and  fail ;  but  it  has  also  its  ludicrous, 
its   grotesque    aspects,    and  they  always    strike   me 


A     LEGAL     NOVELTY.  163 

first,  though  the  laugh  they  provoke  is  quickly 
succeeded  by  a  sad  realization,  sweeping  over 
me  like  a  great,  bitter  wave,  of  all  there  is  in 
it  of  error,  of  suffering,  and  of  peril. 

October   24. 

This  is  a  strange  place,  full  of  all  sorts  of 
social,  religious,  and  political  anomalies  and  con- 
tradictions, where  things  generally  are  curiously 
mixed  up  and  reversed.  And  now  we  have  a 
new  thing  in  the  legal  way,  a  startling  novelty 
in  the  long,  dull  history  of  jurisprudence.  In 
the  trial  of  Hawkins,  the  polygamist,  last  week, 
a  wife  appeared  in  court  to  testify  against  her 
husband  in  a  criminal  prosecution,  and,  by  her 
testimony,  convicted  him.  To  be  sure,  it  was  a 
Mormon  wife,  and  Mormon  wives  are  not  sup- 
posed to  be  much  married  ;  but  the  fact  seems 
to  be  significant  of  something  more,  perhaps, 
than  extraordinary  and  extra-judicial  proceedings 
here  in  Utah.  The  legal,  poetic,  and  time-honored 
fiction  of  the  "  sacred  oneness "  of  husband  and 
wife  has  received  its  first  stupefying  blow,  not 
in   a  convention    of   free-lovers    nor    from    a    Mor- 


164  UTAH. 

mon  high-priest,  but  in  a  Federal  court  and 
from   an   orthodox  judge. 

Hawkins,  the  man  just  tried,  is  an  Englishman 
of  the  lowest  order,  and  a  very  disreputable 
specimen  of  a  saint.  There  are  bad  saints  as 
well  as  good  sinners.  He  had  brutally  abused 
this  his  first  wife,  the  love  of  his  youth,  who 
had  borne  him  many  children,  and  at  last  he 
insisted  on  bringing  into  the  same  house  two 
younger  spouses.  The  society  of  these  ladies 
was  not  agreeable  to  her,  but  he  stood  on  his 
"  Gospel  privileges,"  and  compelled  her  by  threats 
and  blows  to  put  up  with  it.  A  man  who  will 
beat  his  wife  under  Victoria,  will  not  always  have 
the  grace  to  spare  her  under  Brigham.  Ill-used 
wives  frequently  appeal  to  that  power  which  is 
absolute  and  ubiquitous  in  the  Territory,  and 
whose  action  is  usually  prompt  and  decisive. 
They  carry  all  their  intolerable  burdens  to  the 
Lion  House.  So  these  Mormon  wives  declare 
that  at  the  worst  they  are  better  off  here  than 
in  the  old  country,  where  there  was  no  division 
in   the   beatings,   and   no    Brigham    to   appeal   to. 

I   am   told   that   this   wronged  wife  gave   in   her 


A     REBELLIOUS     WIFE,  165 


testimony    against     her     brutal     husband     readily, 
eagerly,  as   though    glad    that    her    day    had   come' 
at    last.      Usually   with    the     acceptance     of     the 
Mormon     faith,      the     most     high-spirited    women 
seem    to    "suffer    a    sad   change,    into     something 
meek    and    strange,"    but    there     seems    to    be    a 
good    deal   of    human    nature   left    in   this   particu- 
lar woman.     I    am    glad    of    it,    though    she    has 
shocked   the    Mormon    community  by  dragging   the 
sanctities    of  a  polygamic    household    into   a   Gen- 
tile  court.     This    is    the   first   of    these     most   im- 
portant  trials,   and   it   is   a  very  ugly  case   for  the 
Saints.      I    am    thankful    that    I    am    not    a    Deb- 
orah,   set   to  judge   this   Israel.     But  if    I.  were,    I 
should   pray  God    for   grace   to   render   a  just   and 
impartial  judgment,    for    wisdom    and    courage  and 
charity.      It   is   hard,   perhaps,   for   a   zealous   mon- 
ogamic  magistrate  to   remember  that  these  strange 
people   are    our    fellow-beings,   that   the    most    per- 
verse   polygamist   of    them    all    is    entitled    to    the 
benefit    of    the    Golden    Rule.     Even     I,    with     no 
political,    sectarian,   or    mercenary  interests    to  bias 
me,    find   it   difficult    to    speak    temperately    of    an 
institution    which   is   for    woman    a    back-set    into 


l66  UTAH. 

barbarism,    systematized    degradation,  and     torture. 
'I    find   it    almost   impossible   to   believe   that   Mor- 
mon  law-makers  may  be    as    conscientious    in    re- 
ligionizing  polygamy  as   are   our    Christian   legisla- 
tors  in   legalizing   prostitution.     "Plural   marriage" 
is    to    me,    of    course,     only    vice,   sanctioned    and 
protected,    and    must    be    simply   revolting    to     all 
who    come    here   from    favored    and    refined    com- 
munities   in    the    States,    where    there    is    nothing 
of    the    sort,  —  under  that   name    at    least.      It    is 
impossible   for    me   to    pass   by    the  prettiest    Mor- 
mon  home   without  shuddering   at   the   thought  of 
the   tragedies  in  women's  lives   that  may  be   pass- 
ing   under    its     roof;    of    course     one     never    has 
such  thoughts    in  passing   elegant   houses  in  East- 
ern  cities,   where   wives    are   free    and   happy   and 
husbands    are    loving    and     loyal.     I    even    find    it 
hard     when      reading      the     Scriptural     texts      on 
street-signs    to    refrain   from    laughing,   out   of    re- 
spect  to  our   Puritan  fathers   and   the   early  Meth- 
odists  and  Quakers,  who  were   also  given  to  cant. 
I    can   only  have   patience  with    the  most  ignorant 
of    these   people,   when    they   tell   of   miracles   and 
angelic  appearances,  by  remembering  the  miraculous 


MORMON     HOTELS.  167 

things  told  and  believed  of  the  Wesleys  and 
George    Fox   and    countless    Catholic   saints. 

But  why  should  I  expect  to  always  "  abound  in 
charity,"  when  even  ministers  of  the  Gospel  some- 
times get  quite  out  of  the  article .-'  Some  of  them 
have  lately  written  of  the  Mormons  as  being  uni- 
versally, not  only  as  polygamous,  but  as  murderous, 
as  the  old  fighting  patriarchs,  as  so  many  Ishma- 
els  and  outlaws,  vicious,  depraved,  disorderly,  sen- 
sual, devilish. 

I  noticed  in  a  late  New  York  journal  the  report 
of  a  discourse  by  a  distinguished  clergyman  who 
has  lately  crossed  the  continent,  and  who  complained 
that,  when  in  this  new  City  of  the  Plain,  he  was 
compelled  to  stop  at  a  Mormon  hotel,  and  that 
he  was  annoyed  by  Mormon  card-players  in  the 
next  room,  whose  conversation  was  neither  edify- 
ing nor  proper.  There  are  Gentile  hotels  in  the 
town :  the  reverend  gentleman  should  not  be  so 
bent  on  going  to  the  most  fashionable  hostelry. 
His  experience  reminds  me  of  one  of  my  own,  at 
a  hotel  in  a  certain  town  in  the  State  of  Indiana. 
It  was  court  time,  and  the  next  room  to  mine 
was  occupied   till   a   late   hour   by  a   card   party  of 


l68  UTAH. 

lawyers  and  judges  ;  the  partition  was  thin,  and 
I  was  horrified  and  disgusted  by  the  profanity,  and 
worse  than  profanity,  that  made  "night  hideous." 
These  legal  gentlemen  were  not  given  to  much 
marrying,  but  they  did  a  great  business  in  the 
divorce  line.  People  who  have  lived  here  a  long 
time  say  that  such  a  thing  as  a  card-playing  Mor- 
mon is  almost  unknown.  Gambling  in  all  its  forms 
is  an  offence  subjecting  one  to  church  discipline. 
The  reverend  doctor  was  probably  mistaken  ;  the 
profane  midnight  revellers  at  the  Townsend  House 
(a  hotel  which  we  found  remarkably  quiet  and 
orderly)  may  not  have  been  these  rude,  hard- 
working Mormons  at  all ;  they  may  have  been 
gentlemen,  or  Gentile-men. 

Another  clergyman,  one  of  a  zealous  missionary 
band  who  came  out  here  last  summer  to  hold  a 
great  camp-meeting,  reported  that  they  only  held 
their  sessions  in  safety  and  escaped  out  of  the  val- 
ley alive,  through  the  presence  and  protection  of 
a  volunteer  guard  of  armed  miners,  five  hundred 
strong.  Doubtless  the  worthy  man  believes  his 
own  astonishing  statement,  being  well  exercised  in 
faith  ;    but  all  sorts  of  people  here,  who   know  the 


RELIGIOUS     FREEDOM.  169 

men,  laugh  at  the  idea  of  five  hundred  busy  miners 
turning  out  to  a  camp-meeting,  even  with  the 
prospect  of  a  fight,  as  something  hugely  funny  and 
preposterous.  If  no  converts  were  made  at  that 
camp-meeting  from  the  Mormon  Church,  it  was  not 
because  of  any  special  counter  -  effort  or  active 
opposition.  The  truth  is,  Brigham  Young,  with  his 
usual  quiet  cunning  and  knowledge  of  such  human 
nature  as  he  has  had  to  deal  with,  took  the  matter 
very  coolly,  advised  his  people  to  go  to  the  meet- 
ings, to  calmly  listen  to  all  their  opponents  had  to 
say,  and  to  learn  all  they  could.  He  sent  his 
bishops  to  keep  order  among  the  younger  and  more 
turbulent  Mormons  ;  he  even  went  himself,  and  at 
one  time,  while  a  preacher  was  bitterly  denouncing 
polygamy  and  other  doctrines  of  the  Latter-Day 
Saints,  and  some  of  those  badly  hit  began  to  mur- 
mur and  threaten,  and  an  outbreak  seemed  inev- 
itable, the  mere  raising  of  his  hand  in  a  quiet, 
repressing. gesture  stayed  all  violence,  hushed  every 
angry  voice.  His  people  rest  quiet  under  his 
strong,  supreme  will,  and  actually  fancy,  because 
there  is  no  bluster  about  it,  that  they  have  perfect 
religious  freedom.  There  is  little  squirming  under 
the  velvet  paw. 


170  UTAH. 

When  Christian  charity  gives  out,  "  Give  the 
Devil  his  due,"  is  a  sajfe  principle  to  fall  back  on. 
This  is  doubtless  a  wicked  place,  but  it  does  not 
monopolize  the  wickedness  of  the  great  Republic. 
The  Tabernacle  has  left  something  to  Tammany. 
Brigham  Young  may  be  chief  among  the  left-hand 
"goats,"  but  he  did  not  carry  all  the  sins  of  the 
people  into  the  wilderness. 

Now,  from  all  I  have  been  able  to  observe  and 
from  all  I  hear  from  intelligent  Gentiles  long  resi- 
dent here,  I  am  convinced  that  the  Mormon  people 
generally  are  remarkably  quiet,  orderly,  sober,  and 
industrious,  strongly  and  especially  addicted  to 
minding  their  own  business.  However  much  the 
leaders  may  be  given  to  proselyting,  the  common 
people  never  intrude  their  peculiar  tenets  and 
ideas  upon  you  ;  but  if  you  inquire  concerning 
them,  they  will  plainly  and  seriously  answer  your 
questions,  and,  in  most  cases,  while  struck  by  the 
absurdity  or  revolted  by  the  moral  obliquity  of 
those  ideas,  you  are  convinced  of  the  absolute 
sincerity   of  the   simple-hearted   expounders. 

As  to  Brigham  Young,  we  must  all  admit,  even 
in   this   his   time   of    trouble   and   threatened   over- 


A    SAGACIOUS    RULER.  171 

throw,  that,  considering  the  elements  he  has  had 
to  deal  with,  —  the  rudest,  the  poorest,  the  most 
ignorant  classes  of  men,  for  the  greater  part  a  con- 
glomerate of  the  lowest  strata  of  civilized  socie- 
ties, — "  the  offscouring  of  the  earth,"  as  he  him- 
self once  called  them,  —  considering  the  hard  con- 
ditions of  early  emigration  and  settlement,  he  has 
formed  a  wonderful  working  colony,  unparalleled 
for  vigor,  constancy,  and  cohesion ;  has  created  a 
State,  almost  a  nation,  in  this  wild,  desert  land  ; 
and,  on  the  whole,  has  governed  it  surpassingly 
well.  But  for  his  one  fatal  mistake,  the  man 
might  have  left  to  other  times  a  noble  fame,  if 
not  for  inspired  leadership,  for  masterly  sagacity ; 
if  not  as  a  prophet  of  the  Lord,  as  a  benefac- 
tor of  the  Lord's  poor ;  if  not  as  the  priest  of  a 
new  religion,  as  the  founder  of  a  new  common- 
wealth. 


NEVADA. 


Virginia  City,  October  24. 

I  LEFT  the  quaint  capital  of  Mormondom  on 
the  loveUest  of  a  long  succession  of  lovely- 
autumn  days.  The  beautiful  valley  of  the  Great 
Salt  Lake  was  brimmed  with  golden  sunshine, 
and  rich  purple  hghts  were  on  all   the  hills. 

Ogden  is  all  alive  nowadays  with  excitement 
over  a  great  tin-mine,  said  to  be  immensely  valu- 
able. Experienced  Cornish  miners  report  the  ore 
unusually   fine,    and   there   are   vast   deposits. 

We  had  a  moonlight  night  of  surpassing  beauty, 
which  bewitched  me  out  of  half  my  sleep,  and 
yet  I  waked  in  time  to  see  a  sunrise  painting 
sky  and  mountain  with  wonderful,  gorgeous  colors. 
I  found  nothing  tiresome  or  disagreeable  in  all 
that  day's  travel.  I  did  not  rebel  against  the 
eternal  dull  sage-brush  below,  when  the  sky  was 
full     of    ever -varying     clouds,     and     the     sunlight 


THE    HEATHEN    CHINEE    APPEARS.  173 

touched  every  object  with  tender,  impartial  rays. 
Even  the  alkah  dust  annoyed  me  Httle,  as  it  was 
cold  enough  to  have  all  the  windows  closed.  Still, 
it  was  pleasant  to  come  upon  grazing  valleys  and 
rocks  and  canons  again.  The  palisades  in  Twelve- 
Mile  Caiion  are  very  grand  and  beautiful,  and 
the  Devil's  Peak  is  a  highly  satisfactory  diaboli- 
cal feature  in  the  wild  landscape ;  and  all  along 
the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  there  are  pictures 
of  savage  grandeur  and  quiet  beauty  which  al- 
ternately rouse  and  rest  one.  On  that  day  we 
were  first  waited  upon  at  table  by  soft -footed, 
white -robed,  moon -faced  Orientals.  I  find  the 
Chinese  very  agreeable  as  waiters.  They  put  on 
no  superior  Littimer  airs,  yet  are  so  utterly  re- 
moved from  all  interest  in  you  and  your  affairs, 
beyond  the  business  in  hand,  that,  with  half  a 
dozen  about  you,  you  have  a  delightful  sense  of 
privacy,  and  should  no  more  think  of  dismissing 
Chinese  servants  for  better  after-dinner  freedom 
in  conversation,  than  of  sending  away  the  tea- 
tray,  lest  its  painted  mandarins  should  listen  and 
gossip.  There  is  "  no  speculation "  in  their  eyes. 
The  sleeping  and  the  dead  and  the  Chinese  are  but 
as  pictures. 


174  NEVADA. 


At  Reno  I  left  the  train  for  Virginia  City. 
It  was  after  midnight,  but  the  weather  was  mild 
and  the  moonlight  resplendent ;  so  a  mountain 
stage-ride  of  twenty  miles  had  no  terrors  for  me. 
We  had  six  good  horses  that  sturdily  toiled  up 
the  long  grade,  and  gallantly  dashed  down  the 
declivities,  and  whirled  us  around  rocky  points  in 
magnificent  style.  But  gradually  the  stifling  dust, 
the  rising  wind,  and  ever -increasing  cold,  clouds, 
and  mists  prophesying  storm,  and  the  vice -like 
jam  of  an  overcrowded  coach  changed  what 
had  seemed  to  me  a  pleasant  adventure  into  a 
most  fatiguing  and  uncomfortable  journey.  In  the 
gray,  uncertain  light  of  a  dawn  that  grew  slowly 
and  sullenly  into  the  only  dreary,  dreadful  day  I 
have  seen  on  this  coast,  I  reached  Virginia, 
famous  as  the  home  of  "  Tom  Flynn "  and  Laura 
Fair,  and  somewhat  celebrated  as  the  city  set 
on  the  hill,  whose  foundations  are  of  silver  and 
gold,  and  whose  gates  open  downward  into  the 
more  wonderful  underground  city  of  the  Com- 
stock    Lode. 

There  was   no   room   for  me   at   the   inn.     I    did 
not  quite  lodge  in  the  manger,  but  in  an  apartment 


A    DRY    STORM.  175 


scarcely  more  desirable.  It  was  an  awful  day  ;  the 
wind  rose  to  the  dignity  of  a  tornado,  dry  at  first, 
swirling  about  old  Mount  Davidson,  and  whelming 
the  town -in  thick  gray  clouds  of  dust;  then  came 
the  rain,  swift  and  furious  as  hail.  Between  the 
gusts  I  caught  glimpses  of  the  wild  and  desolate 
scenery  about  me.  The  great  brown  hills  seemed 
to  me,  not  only  utterly  denuded,  but  flayed,  stripped 
of  all  the  outer  covering  of  nature,  and  gashed  and 
scarred  and  marred  and  maltreated  in  every  way. 
But  in  happier  days  succeeding,  these  same  bleak 
hills  grew  to  have  for  me  a  sort  of  grim  grandeur 
and  savage  attractiveness.  Moonlight,  from  some 
atmospheric  peculiarity  of  the  region,  perhaps,  gives 
to  them  a  strange,  mystical,  unreal  beauty,  and  a 
sunset  glorifies  them  wonderfully,  but  it  takes  a 
great  sunset  to  do  it. 

My  sole  amusement  during  that  first  dreary  day 
was  in  gazing  out  upon  the  street.  Here  I  saw 
more  Chinese  than  I  had  before  beheld,  and  more 
Indians.  The  latter,  I  am  happy  to  say,  are  to  a 
considerable  degree  accepting  the  situation,  and 
becoming  civilized  and  Christianized.  When  sorely 
pinched  the  noble  red  man  will  bow  his  proud  neck 


176  NEVADA. 


over  the  saw-horse  to  earn  his  daily  tobacco  and 
whiskey,  and  allow  his  squaw  to  earn  their  bread 
and  potatoes  by  washing.  When  night  came,  "  I 
was  darkly,  deeply,  desperately  blue."  I  had  as  yet 
no  reply  to  my  letters  of  introduction,  I  had  seen 
no  friendly,  familiar  face.  My  sole  society  had  been 
a  fellow-traveller  in  reduced  circumstances  and  de- 
pressed spirits,  —  an  Hungarian  lady  of  rank.  It  is 
a  singular  circumstance  that  all  the  Hungarians  I 
have  ever  known  have  been  people  of  rank.  A 
pretty  nurse-girl  and  an  elderly  colored  waiter,  see- 
ing my  low  state  of  spirits,  essayed  to  comfort  me. 
She  first  advised  me  to  go  "  to  see  the  cannibals," 
some  Fiji-Islanders,  exhibiting  in  the  town.  "They 
say,"  she  said,  "that  the  old  chief  will  bring  out 
the  leg  of  a  man  and  eat  it  before  the  audience  ; 
and  that  the  princess  will  eat  a  whole  baby,  all 
by  herself" 

When  I  expressed  incredulity,  her  ingenuous  coun- 
tenance fell.  "  I  thought,  if  they  would  do  all  that, 
they  would  be  worth  seeing,"  she  coolly  said,  though 
giving  at  the  same  moment  a  loving  hug  to  the 
fair,  fat  baby  she  held  in  her  arms. 

Jem,  the  waiter,  asked  if  I  contemplated  a  long 
visit  to  Virginia, 


TRANQUILITY    AGAIN.  ^']^ 


"  No,"  I  growled  out,  "  I  shall  start  to-morrow 
for  a  civilized  country,  —  shaking  the  dust  of  Ne- 
vada from  my  feet,  if  that  be  possible." 

He  looked  hurt,  and  eagerly  answered,  "  Why, 
we  are  civilized,  madam ;  we  've  got  a  good  vigi- 
lance committee  here  now.  The  time  was  when 
you  could  n't  go  out  of  a  morning  without  stumb- 
ling over  a  dead  man  or  two." 

Tranquillized  in  spirit,  I  reposed  that  night  under 
the  protecting  wing  of  the  vigilance  committee, 
which  is  supposed  never  to  slumber  or  sleep.  Joy 
came  in  the  morning  in  the  handsome  and  hearty 
shape  of  the  superintendent  of  the  Chollar-Potosi 
Mine,  who  took  me  home  to  his  beautiful  house 
and  his  lovely  wife.  The  storm  was  over,  and 
thenceforth  all  was  brightness  and  pleasantness  for 
me  in  Nevada.  So  pleasant  was  it,  so  hospitable 
and  social  were  the  people,  so  much  was  there  to 
see,  that  I  absolutely  found  no  time  during  my  too 
brief  stay  to  chronicle  incidents  and  impressions, 
and  I  am  now  almost  ashamed  to  dismiss  so  de- 
lightful an  episode  of  travel  in  a  few  brief,  dry 
paragraphs,  as  I  find  I  must  do. 

My  kind  host,  Mr.   Rigua,  did  the  honors  of  the 
8*  L 


178  NEVADA. 


Chollar-Potosi.  We  descended  into  those  myste- 
rious argentiferous  deeps,  by  means  of  the  "  cage," 
a  sort  of  iron  elevator,  very  safe  and  comfortable. 
The  like  of  this  admirable  machine  I  did  not  see 
in  Colorado.  There  you  have  to  go  down  in  a 
bucket,  with  the  chance  of  kicking  it  on  the  way. 
This  is  cleanly  and  swift  and  silent.  If  you  want 
to  visit  the  fourteen-hundred-feet  level,  you  step 
on  a  little  platform,  settle,  and  are  there.  We  went 
down  several  miles,  and  walked  several  hundred 
feet  under  ground,  or  went  down  several  hun- 
dred feet  and  walked  several  miles,  I  am  not  clear 
which  ;  but  I  know  it  was  a  very  interesting,  easy, 
and  instructive  expedition,  pleasanter  than  a  walk 
through  the  musty  and  mortuary  old  catacombs, 
which  always  seemed  to  me  to  smell  stiflingly  of 
dead  Christians.  We  visited  several  levels,  explored 
tunnels  and  drifts,  and  saw  all  the  various  pro- 
cesses of  mining,  most  of  which  were  already  fa- 
miliar to  me.  The  ground  I  found  mostly  very 
dry,  and  the  tunnels  and  drifts  no  more  difficult 
to  explore  than  the  galleries  of  those  same  old  cata- 
combs, which  they  more  than  once  reminded  me 
of.      Some   very  rich    deposits   of   ore   have   lately 


THE    C  HOLLAR-POTOSI.  179 

been  discovered  in  this  mine,  lying  solitary  and 
alone  in  the  form  of  monstrous  eggs  (roc's  eggs), 
which  are  very  cunningly  hid  away,  and  only  come 
upon  by  accident.  The  miners  get  as  excited  as 
boys  in  egg-hunting,  and  have  as  little  scruple 
about  robbing  the  nest. 

The  Chollar  is  not  now  worked  at  its  lowest 
level,  some  eleven  hundred  feet  down.  The  lode 
is  not  generally  found  to  increase  in  richness  as 
it  descends,  though  the  Belcher  and  the  Crown 
Point  have  produced  very  rich  ore  at  a  very  low 
depth.  The  mines  on  the  Comstock  Lode  alone 
have  produced  an  astonishing  amount  of  bullion 
during  the  past  year,  and  the  talk  is  constantly  of 
new  discoveries.  The  old  mountain  is  not  yet  half 
disembowelled. 

To  the  superintendent  of  the  Sutro  Tunnel  I 
was  indebted  for  a  visit  to  that  famous  work,  and 
a  most  charming  day.  We  drove  down  Six-Mile 
Canon,  a  most  interesting  drive,  as  it  takes  you 
past  many  of  the  great  crushing-mills  and  the 
sluices,  reservoirs,  and  buildings  for  the  saving  and 
working  over  of  the  tailings,  —  fine,  clay-colored 
dust,   formerly   thrown    away   as   mere    refuse,    but 


l8o  NEVADA. 


now  found  to  contain  enough  gold  and  silver  to 
pay  handsomely.  It  is  the  last  gleaning  of  the 
golden  crops  up  above.  Millions  of  dollars  have 
drifted  down  these  gulches  in  "  tailings." 

The  valley  of  the  Carson,  from  which  the  Sutro 
Tunnel  leads  into  the  mountain,  is  very  lovely,  but 
lonely  and  bare.  If  the  great  tunnel  be  ever  com- 
pleted, and  prove  the  success  its  projectors  hope  it 
to  be,  Virginia  City,  already  wearing  an  ancient 
and  permanent  aspect,  must  be  virtually  trans- 
ported thither,  the  tunnel  becoming  the  principal 
outlet  of  the  mines.  But  it  will  be  a  great  under- 
taking, even  for  the  energetic  and  enthusiastic 
Teutonic  engineer,  to  bring  a  mountain  town  like 
that  to  the  plain  without  the  aid  of  an  avalanche. 
I  have  always  had  a  strong  interest  in  the  Sutro 
Tunnel  enterprise.  I  liked  the  boldness  and  the 
daring  of  it.  I  was  impressed  by  the  splendid  pos- 
sibilities. It  would  be  stealing  a  march  on  old 
Mercury,  —  storming  his  great  treasure-house  by 
sapping  and  mining  from  below.  It  was  some- 
thing stupendous,  yet  practicable  and  feasible,  —  on 
the  chart  at  least.  On  the  spot,  I  more  fully  real- 
ized  the   stupendousness    of   the   undertaking.      So 


THE   SUTRO   TUNNEL.  l8l 

little  has  yet  been  done,  such  an  immensity  re- 
mains to  be  undone !  We  went  in,  about  half  a 
mile,  to  where  the  men  were  slowly  blasting  their 
way  through  the  hardest  sort  of  granite. 

Though  Mr.  Sutro  is  a  man  of  wonderful  ener- 
gy and  perseverance  and  persuasiveness,  —  though 
he  has  faith  that  almost  may  remove  mountains,  — 
I  cannot  believe  that  the  remaining  seven  and  a 
half  miles  of  tunnelling  will  ever  be  accomplished 
without  strong  aid  and  comfort  from  govern- 
ment. Sutro  proposes,  —  Congress  disposes.  I 
suppose  the  Commission  will  report  during  the 
coming  session,  and  the  momentous  question  of 
subsidy  or  no  subsidy  will  be  decided.  Prepos- 
sessed in  favor  of  the  enterprise  though  I  was,  on 
going  to  Nevada,  candor  compels  me  to  state  that 
I  found  almost  everywhere,  among  mine  and  mill 
owners,  superintendents  and  business  men  gener- 
ally, a  strong  and  bitter  opposition  to  the  work.  It 
is  claimed  by  its  able  advocates  that  it  will  be  a 
blessing  to  all  eventually.  But  "all"  decline  to  be 
blessed.  They  rebel  against  the  grants,  against  the 
royalty,  against  the  tolls,  —  against  the  whole  "  big 
job."     They  see,  or  will  acknowledge,  no  advantages 


l82  NEVADA. 


in  it,  direct  or  incidental.  They  say  that  the  pros- 
pects held  out  of  rich  discoveries  along  the  route 
of  the  tunnel  are  "such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made 
of" 

Of  course,  this  is  a  question  which  only  actual 
exploration  can  decide  ;  they  may  be  all  mistaken, 
—  blinded  by  prejudice;  and  I  confess  that,  if  it 
could  be  done  without  injustice  or  loss  to  the  men 
who  have  done  so  much  to  develop  the  resources 
of  Nevada,  who  have  labored  so  heroically  against 
adverse  conditions,  through  long  years  of  doubtful 
fortunes,  I  should  like  to  see  the  work  carried 
through.  Let  the  innermost  mystery  in  the  heart 
of  the  old  mountain  be  got  at,  the  long  dispute  be 
ended,  and  the  greatest  mining  problem  of  the  age 
be  solved.  Then,  when  the  sullen  old  mountain, 
thoroughly  brought  to  bay,  is  compelled  to  dis- 
gorge his  treasure  by  thousands  of  tons,  and  to 
bleed  gold  and  silver  through  countless  newly  dis- 
covered veins  and  arteries,  I  doubt  not  that  the 
faithless  and  unbelieving  will  give  in,  and  consent 
to  be  made  rich  ;  that  even  the  Bank  of  Califor- 
nia will  gracefully  accept  the  situation  and  the 
bullion.     My  day  at   the  tunnel  and  at  Dayton,  a 


CARSON.  183 


pretty  little  valley  town,  was  full  of  enjoyment, 
owing  in  great  part  to  the  cordial  hospitality  of 
my  host  and  his  pleasant  family.  We  drove  home 
through  Gold  Canon  and  by  Silver  City  and  Gold 
■Hill,  —  all  wonderful  scenes  of  bold  enterprise  and 
busy  industry,  full  of  interest  for  me.  On  the  fol- 
lowing day  we  went  to  Carson  by  probably  the 
crookedest  railroad  in  the  world,  —  a  marvellous, 
almost  inconceivable,  piece  of  engineering. 

Carson  is  the  home  of  our  genial  and  eloquent 
friend,  Senator  Nye.  I  was  most  graciously  and 
charmingly  entertained  by  his  friends  and  neigh- 
bors, whom  I  found,  without  an  exception,  admirers 
and  lovers  of  the  man. 

Carson  has  some  wonderful  hot  springs,  which 
supply  baths  said  to  be  excellent  for  rheumatism. 
Hot  springs  abound  in  Nevada.  I  heard  of  a 
family  who  do  all  their  cooking  by  means  of  a  do- 
mesticated geyser  in  their  kitchen.  The  water  of 
a  hot  spring  near  Elko  has  a  decided  taste  of 
chicken-broth.  What  a  pity  it  is  not  located  in 
Chicago ! 

Of  course,  I  visited  the  penitentiary  to  see  the 
scene  of  the  late   terrible   fight  between  the  escap- 


184  NEVADA. 


ing  convicts  and  the  officers.  The  marks  of  the 
conflict  are  yet  to  be  seen  on  walls  and  doors. 
Most  of  the  men  have  been  caught,  and  after  their 
fearful  hardships  seem  glad  to  get  back.  Many  of 
them  will  not  go  out  again,  except  for  a  little 
walk  to  the  scaffold.  While  talking  over  the 
affair  with  the  warden  in  one  of  the  corridors, 
I  was  startled  by  hearing  fearful  groans  almost 
under  my  feet.  Looking  down,  I  saw  a  small 
grating  in  the  flag-stones,  and  was  told  that  be- 
neath us  were  two  dungeons,  in  which  the  worst 
recaptured  convicts  —  murderers  —  were  confined. 

Carson  must  be  in  the  spring  and  summer  a 
very  pretty  place ;  for  it  has  foliage  and  flowers 
and  water,  and  grand  hills  behind  it  not  yet 
stripped  of  all  their  trees.  The  society  here  is  cul- 
tivated and  agreeable,  and  the  grace  of  a  noble 
hospitality  adds  to  it  the  last  best  charm.  The 
Mint  and  the  State  Capitol  are  noble  buildings, 
and  there  are  several  elegant  private  residences  in 
the  town. 

I  have  left  myself  no  space  fitly  to  describe  the 
crowning  pleasure  of  my  little  tour  in  Nevada, — 
the  visit  to  Lake  Tahoe.     With  a  merry   party   of 


LAKE   TAHOE.  185 


friends,  in  a  large  barouche  drawn  by  four  hand- 
some grays,  I  made  the  excursion  with  great  com- 
fort, with  unalloyed  enjoyment,  notwithstanding 
the  lateness  of  the  season,  for  the  day  was  one  of 
rare  mildness  and  stillness,  of  perfect  beauty. 
The  road  up  the  mountains,  past  Eagle  and  Car- 
son valleys,  is  a  magnificent  one,  and  commands 
magnificent  views.  It  was  comforting  to  see  wood- 
ed hillsides  again.  All  along  our  way  the  pines 
grow  grand  and  tall,  and  there  was  something 
most  "  melancholy  sweet "  in  the  sound  of  the  low 
winds  among  their  dark  branches.  It  took  me 
back  to  the  Alleghanies,  the  Green  Mountains, 
the  White  Mountains,  even  the  Alps,  —  so  is  that 
sombre  music  of  the  pines  passed,  from  mountain- 
top  to  mountain-top,  around  the  world. 

Tahoe  is  the  most  beautiful  lake  I  have  ever 
beheld.  It  is  an  emerald  on  the  brow  of  the 
mountain.  Marvellously  clear  and  sparkling,  it  is 
surrounded  by  the  most  enchanting  scenery,  and  is 
altogether  a  surprise,  a  wonder,  a  delight.  Some 
time  I  hope  to  be  able  to  describe  it.  I  am  vain 
enough  to  think  I  could  do  it ;  for  I  have  only  to 
close  my  eyes,  and  the  whole   exquisite   picture  of 


l86  NEVADA. 


radiant  skies  and  autumnal  banks  and  purple  moun- 
tains and  soft  green  water  glows  and  melts  and 
shimmers  before  me.  Ah,  Nature  was  in  a  happy, 
tender,  divine  mood  when  she  formed  Lake  Tahoe 
and  its  exquisite  surroundings !  And  yet  that 
sweet  mood  succeeded  a  passionate,  fiery  outburst, 
lasting  nobody  knows  how  many  centuries  ;  for  it 
is  said  by  scientists  that  a  volcano  once  seethed 
and  rumbled  where  Tahoe  now  ripples  and  smiles. 
This  lovely  sheet  of  water  was  once  named  Lake 
Bigler,  after  a  Democratic  governor ;  but  a  trium- 
phant Republicanism  rechristened  it  Tahoe,  —  an 
improvement,  perhaps,  poetically,  but  politically  a 
very  small  piece  of  business.  There  is  an  admirable 
hotel  at  the  lake,  and  a  small  steamer  for  pleasure- 
excursions,  a  charming  drive  along  its  shores,  and 
prime  fishing  in  its  cool,  translucent  waters.  On 
the  face  of  a  high  rock,  in  full  view  from  the  road 
and  the  lake,  there  is  a  singular  natural  curiosity. 
It  is  a  profile,  formed  apparently  by  certain  depres- 
sions in  the  stone,  —  a  colossal  intaglio,  —  and  is  a 
striking  and  a  very  noble  likeness  of  Shakespeare. 
It  is  strange  to  think  that  Nature  had  chiselled  his 
face    in    the    eternal    rock,    high    among    the    clifis 


THE   SHAKESPEARE   PROFILE.  187 

where  the  eagles  nested,  in  this  savage  mountain- 
land,  at  a  time  when  the  New  World  itself  seemed 
but  a  monstrous  mirage,  or  fata  Morgana,  afar 
down  the  watery  slope  of  the  world,  —  when  not 
even  the  magic  seas  and  the  spacious  heaven  of 
his  imagination  took  it  in. 

I  think  Lake  Tahoe  must  yet  become  a  great 
pleasure  resort.  I  have  seen  no  more  charming 
spot  in  all  my  tours  for  a  summer's  rest  and  ram- 
bling. 


CALIFORNIA. 


San  Francisco,  November  lo. 

I  LEFT  Nevada,  even  for  California,  with  re- 
luctance. I  parted  from  the  kind  Nevada 
people  with  grateful  regret.  Even  Virginia  City 
looked  not  unlovely  as  I  gazed  my  last  upon  it, 
trying  to  make  out  the  dear  home  of  the  best 
friends  a  poor  strolling  Bohemienne  ever  had. 
The  recumbent  old  mountain  lay  still  and  long  and 
grand,  like  dead  Caesar,  his  gaping,  unsightly 
wounds  decently  covered  by  a  light  toga  of  snow. 

My  journey  of  the  next  day,  the  last  of  my 
long  pilgrimage  from  ocean  to  ocean,  was  a  suc- 
cession of  delightful  sights  and  sensations.  After 
crossing  the  Sierras,  where  the  envious  snow- 
sheds  shut  out  from  us  many  grand  pictures, 
how  wonderful  it  was  to  see  the  world  brighten- 
ing and  greening  and  blooming  before  us,  as  we 
slid    down    from   that    dark   mountain  -  land    and    a 


SAN    FRANCISCO    FROM    THE    BAY.  189 

wintry  atmosphere,  into  lovely,  fruitful  valleys,  into 
soft,  balmy,  golden  airs,  past  vineyards  and  or- 
chards and  flowery  gardens !  It  was  almost  like 
witnessing   a   creation.    ^ 

I  thought  the  scenery  of  the  Sierras  far  behind 
that  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  in  grandeur  till  we 
came  to  Cape  Horn,  which  is  equal  to  the  Ar- 
gentine Pass  of  Colorado,  but  no  grander,  I  think. 

California  all  the  way  that  day  reminded  me 
of  Italy,  as  I  once  travelled  through  it  at  pre- 
cisely the  same  season  ;  and  San  Francisco,  as 
seen  from  the  bay  (for  we  took  the  steamboat 
at  Vallejo),  reminded  me  of  Genoa,  which  long  ago 
I  entered  from  the  sea,  at  the  same  time  of  the 
year,  and  at  the  same  time  of  night.  The  twink- 
ling, throbbing  lights  of  the  streets,  and  of  thou- 
sands on  thousands  of  dwellings,  rising  tier  above 
tier,  gave  to  the  town  a  marvellous,  magical  ap- 
pearance. It  seemed  like  a  mighty  flight  of 
illuminated  steps,  leading  up  to  the  clouds,  or 
like  a  city  being  let  down  from  heaven.  The 
air  of  enchantment,  the  aerial,  unreal  effects  of 
that  wondrous  night-picture,  I  despair  of  convey- 
ing   by   any   words    I    can    command.      It   was    a 


igo  CALIFORNIA. 


clear,  starlit  night ;  but  the  bold,  rocky  eminences 
to  our  right  —  Angel  Island  and  Alcatras  — 
lay  wrapped  in  mysterious  shadows ;  and  dimly 
through  the  Golden  Gate  shone  the  silver  wa- 
ters of  the  vast,  unknown  sea,  the  ocean  of  my 
dream.  I  thought  of  old  Balboa,  beholding  for 
the  first  time  the  gleam  of  those  waters,  —  the 
solemn  fulfilment  of  his  prophecy,  the  fruition  of 
his   heroic   faith.     I    thought   of  how 

*'  Silent  on  a  peak  in  Darien, 
He  stared  at  the  Pacific," 

and  concluded  that  he  did  the  correct  thing  in 
refraining  from  wrenching  himself  in  attempts  to 
express   the   inexpressible. 

December  i. 
Three  weeks  and  more  in  San  Francisco  and 
vicinity ;  and  they  have  gone  by  like  three  days 
and  less.  I  have  been  a  very  bad  correspondent 
during  this  time  of  times.  All  things  without 
and  within  seem  to  have  been  in  league  against 
my  virtuous  plans  for  work,  —  the  strange  scenes, 
the  bright  sky  and  sea,  sunshine  and  soft  airs, 
novel    street     sights,    charming    drives   and   walks, 


FAIR    WEATHER.  I9I 


brilliant  shops,  theatres,  libraries,  churches,  and, 
above  all,  the  great  hearts  of  these  people, — 
hearts  that  keep  open  house  for  all  visitors,  and 
take  us  in,  and  wrap  us  around  and  hold  us 
fast  by  the  kindest,  warmest,  cheeriest  hospitali- 
ty^—  a  hospitahty  which,  like  the  mercy  of  the 
Lord,  is  "  new  every  morning."  Who  could  sit 
tamely  down  to  write  in  such  incomparably  and 
intoxicatingly  lovely  weather  as  we  had  for  the 
first  two  weeks  of  my  stay  ?  And  when  the  rains 
came  on,  —  the  first  since  May,  —  and  it  was  really 
chilly  and  dismal  for  three  whole  days,  who  would 
write  then  1  What  sensible  Christian  woman 
would  n't  curl  up  on  a  sofa  and  read  novels  ? 
Now  all  is  bright  and  balmy  again  ;  the  waters 
of  the  bay  sparkle  with  almost  intolerable  bright- 
ness, and  the  gardens  and  grounds  have  put  on 
new  greenness  and  glory.  The  garden  under  my 
window  (my  window  which  stands  open)  sends  up 
the  fragrance  of  heliotropes,  mignonettes,  gerani- 
ums, carnations,  verbenas,  and  magnificent  roses 
of  many  sorts.  Fuchsias  are  in  full  bloom,  and 
oleanders,  and  the  bounteous  laurustinas,  and  a 
sort    of    honeysuckle,    and    sweet-peas,    and    tube- 


192  CALIFORNIA. 


roses.     So   much  for  my  dear  flower-loving  friends 
on   the   other   side,    by  way  of    aggravation. 

The  house  at  which  I  am  now  perched,  the 
home  of  a  lovely  "  friend  of  my  better  days," — 
if  I  ever  had  any,  —  is  on  the  heights  ;  and  the 
windows  command  wide  views  of  the  city,  of  the 
purple-misted  foot-hills  of  the  Coast  Range,  and 
of  the  bay  and  its  islands.  What  with  the  near 
garden  and  the  distant  hills  and  waters,  I  have 
too  much  to  look  at,  altogether.  Indolence  is  no 
name  for  the  feeling  that  takes  possession  of  me 
here.  There  is  nothing  of  the  Italian  dolce  far 
nietite  about  it.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  perpetual 
excitement,  and  prompts  to  supernatural  bodily 
activity.  There  is  "  a  spirit  in  my  feet "  that 
will  not  let  me  rest.  I  cannot  see  enough  of 
this  picturesque  land.  I  cannot  drink  in  enough 
of  the  quickening  sunshine,  and  the  balmy,  heal- 
ing air  of  this  strange  new  summer,  of  this 
vast  new  sea.  The  very  springs  of  life  seem  re- 
newed here.  Old  enthusiasms,  old  pleasures,  come 
back  ;  old  follies  put  off  their  sackcloth  and 
shake  off  their  ashes,  and  wear  somewhat  of 
their   first     perilous    attractiveness.      Seeing    "  wild 


CLIMATIC    INTOXICATION.  I93 


oats"  on  every  side,  even  I  might  be  in  danger 
of  going  into  the  culture  of  that  most  unprofit- 
able cereal  in  a  small  way,  —  might,  in  fact,  be- 
lieve myself  young  again,  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses, —  were  it  not  with  me  as  with  the  worthy 
old  Yankee  who  was  inclined  to  consider  himself 
a  handsome  man :  "  Unfortunately,"  he  said,  "  pub- 
lic   opinion    is    agin    me    on    that    pint." 

This  bright,  balmy  weather  gives  one  from  the 
other  side  a  strange,  bewildered  feehng,  —  an  im- 
pression of  something  unnatural  and  almost  in- 
credible ;  of  a  small  Rip  Van  Winkle  experience ; 
of  having  slept  through  the  proper  season  of 
storms  and  snows,  and  bitter,  biting  winds,  and 
of  coming  out  on  the  world  on  a  radiant  May 
morning  ;  for,  look  at  the  skies,  so  soft  and 
blue,  and  innocent  looking,  and  you  half  suspect 
some  trick  of  celestial  magic,  and  ask,  '  Where 
have  you  hidden  away  the  winter  ? "  It  is  a 
country  which  one  must  get  used  to  by  degrees. 
It  does  n't  go  by  the  almanac ;  its  storms  of 
wind  and  rain  are  done  by  big  contracts  ;  its 
"  hired  girls "  are  Chinamen  ;  its  theatres  run  on 
Sunday ;  and  it  knows  not  pennies  and  greenbacks. 
9 


194  CALIFORNIA. 


It  is  odd,  by  the  way,  to  see  with  what  cool,  not 
to  say  contemptuous,  indifference  people  here  re- 
gard our  pretty  pieces  of  postal  currency.  Even 
the  vignettes  have  little  charm  for  them.  They 
gaze  unmoved  on  che  leonine  head  of  Stanton, 
on  the  patrician  face  of  Fessenden,  on  the  fine 
figure  of  Chase,  with  folded  arms,  awaiting  the 
Presidency  ;  on  the  engaging  face  of  Spinner,  — 
even  on  that  brilliant  accomplishment,  his  signa- 
ture, and  on  the  flourish,  which  is  in  itself  a 
liberal  education.  It  all  comes  from  the  influence 
of  that  magnificent  monopoly,  the  Bank  of  Cali- 
fornia. This,  by  the  way,  was  the  first  San 
Francisco  institution  I  visited.  Here  I  found  my 
letters  awaiting  me,  and  here  I  saw  more  gold 
and  silver  coin  and  bullion  than  I  ever  before 
beheld  at  one  time.  Of  course,  I  gazed  upon 
them  with  the  calm  curiosity  of  a  virtuous  soul, 
rooted  and  grounded  in  the  tenth  commandment ; 
but  I  can  scarcely  conceive  of  torture  more  se- 
vere than  that  of  a  defunct  Tweed  or  Connolly 
wandering  about  these  vaults  o'  nights,  with 
ghostly  hands  and  diaphanous  pockets.  This 
Bank   of    California   is   certainly    one   of   the   most 


THE   BANK    OF   CALIFORNIA.  I95 

marvellous  growths  of  this  marvellous  New 
World,  and,  doubtless,  is  a  stupendous  power  on 
the  whole  Pacific  coast.  Its  officers  are  distin- 
guished for  their  uniform  courtesy  and  munificent 
hospitality.  I  am  indebted  to  them  for  much 
kindness  and  many  good  offices,  which  I  can 
never  pay  back,  even  at  simple  interest.  To  the 
account  of  Mr.  Ralston  and  Mr.  Franklin  I  place 
some  of  the  rarest  and  brightest  of  my  long 
succession  of  pleasant  experiences  out  here.  The 
first  was  a  drive  to  the  Cliff  House  and  the 
Seal  Rocks,  a  famous  resort  some  six  miles  from 
town. 

The  day  was  exceptionally  clear  and  beautiful, 
even  for  this  coast,  where  "  they  make  'em."  The 
earth  looked  a  little  brown  and  dusty ;  but  sky  and 
sea  and  air  were  full  of  soft,  heavenly  splendors, 
warmth,  and  serenity.  We  drove  through  some  of 
the  finest  streets  of  the  pleasant,  festive-looking  city, 
the  roses  of  a  thousand  gardens  nodding  to  us 
as  we  passed,  and  out  over  the  sandy  hills,  and 
by  green  little  nooks,  market-gardens,  and  grain- 
fields.  I  cannot  tell  how  joyous  and  friendly  looked 
to  me  the  whole  strange  landscape,  after  the  bleak 


196  CALIFORNIA. 


hills  of  Nevada,  where  Nature  frowns  grimly  over 
her  rough  treasure-chests,  like  an  unprotected  female 
at  a  San  Francisco  landing,  standing  guard  over 
her  "effects"  against  a  mob  of  cab-drivers.  Even 
the  cemeteries  on  our  route  wore  a  cheerful,  well- 
to-do  aspect ;  and  the  monuments  of  men  who  have 
had  much  to  do  with  the  history  and  fame  of  the 
State  — of  such  men  as  Baker  and  Broderick  — 
cast  but  a  little  shadow  on  the  sunny  day.  Now 
and  then,  on  the  road,  there  were  little,  silvery 
glimpses  of  the  Pacific  ;  but  it  was,  after  all,  quite 
suddenly  and  with  a  keen  thrill  of  surprise  that  I 
caught  my  first  full  view  of  it,  lying  almost  at  our 
feet.  —  immense  but  not  awful,  majestic  but  passing 
beautiful,  smiling  grandly  under  the  sweet  heavens, 
in  its  wondrous  peace.  It  did  not  beat  upon  the 
sands  like  the  gray  Atlantic,  in  a  sullen,  thwarted 
way,  but  seemed  to  feel  them  gently,  and  to  spare 
them,  in  a  benign  and  sovereign  self-restraint,  call- 
ing in  its  forces,  and  lying  back  from  the  land.  It 
appears  older  than  the  Atlantic,  which  somehow 
seems  to  date  from  the  time  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
or  of  Columbus  at  the  furthest.  It  murmurs  of 
the  most  ancient   mysteries  of  the    East.     Its  very 


CLIFF    HOUSE   AND   THE   SEA-LIONS.  I97 


air     smells     of     Cathay     and     tastes     of     old     Ci- 
pango. 

Cliff  House  has  a  long,  broad  veranda,  facing 
the  sea,  and  commanding  fine  views  of  the  Golden 
Gate,  of  the  dark,  bold  bluff  of  the  peninsula,  and 
of  the  rocky  points  beyond  the  curving  beach.  On 
this  morning,  there  were  many  sails  in  sight,  some 
passing  through  the  grand  gateway,  some  coming 
up  slowly  before  the  soft  wind,  some  melting  into 
dreams  of  ships  down  the  misty  horizon. 

The  Seal  Rocks  —  three  sharp,  picturesque  little 
islands    immediately   in   front   of    the   hotel  —  were 
crowded  with    sea-lions,  whose  strange,  dismal,   dis- 
cordant barking  filled  the  air.     These  particular  sea- 
lions  are  under  the  protection  of  the  law,  and  are 
such  old  customers  that  habitues  at  the  Cliff  House 
are  able  to  single  out  the  leaders,  the  solid  citizens, 
and  have  given  them   distinctive  and   distinguished 
names.     I   must   confess   I  watched   them   with   an 
eager,   childish  interest   and   enjoyment.     An    Eng- 
lish   tourist    at    my   side    remarked   with   a   happy 
command  of  words,  "  What  an  extraordinary  sight ! 
Really,  you  know,  I  had  no  idea  of  it !     What  ex- 
traordinary  creatures  !   and   what    an   extraordinary 


igS  CALIFORNIA. 


noise  they  make!"  —  which  are  my  opinions,  better 
expressed. 

Some  of  these  sea-lions  are  monsters  of  their 
kind,  weighing  a  thousand  or  twelve  hundred 
pounds,  they  say.  All  seals,  queer,  grotesque,  un- 
canny creatures,  have  for  me  a  strange  fascination, 
seeming  like  sinful  human  souls  in  mild  torment, 
—  men,  perhaps,  who  have  warred  and  wasted,  and 
lived  free  and  high  and  fast,  going  through  an  un- 
comfortable metempsychosis,  prisoned  and  pinioned 
in  these  flabby,  slippery,  and  clumsy  forms.  As 
you  first  see  those  on  this  coast,  they  seem  con- 
tinually to  be  flopping  over  the  rocks  or  down  into 
the  water,  and  you  say  to  yourself,  "  What  a  dreary 
thing  it  must  be,  —  an  existence  of  flop!"  But  as 
you  watch  them  further,  you  see  that  even  a  sea- 
lion's  life  is  varied  ;  for  there  is  the  wallow  in  the 
water,  and  the  hitch  up  on  to  the  rocks,  the  siesta 
in  the  sun,  and  the  bark.  When  he  is  awake,  t/iai 
is  incessant.  Day  and  night  his  "bark  is  on  the  sea." 
Sometimes,  when  they  are  all  barking  at  once,  it 
pleasantly  reminds  one  of  the  House  of  Represent- 
atives. Doubtless  the  sea-lion  has  his  marital  re- 
lations ;  perhaps  the   plural   style    of  marriage   pre- 


A    SEAL    PRIZE    RING.  IQQ 

vails  in  this  thriving  community,  and  all  the 
middling-sized  monsters  grouped  around  the  big 
ones  are  their  consorts,  —  "sealed"  to  them.  If 
so,  the  ill-adjustment  and  discontent  which  nowa- 
days seem  almost  inseparable  from  the  blessed 
estate  of  wedlock  may  account  for  some  of  the 
little  unpleasantnesses  observable  on  the  rocks  in 
the  mildest  and  sleepiest  times.  Another  reason 
why  not  here,  more  than  in  Congress,  do  we  find 
peace  and  unity,  is,  perhaps,  that  here  also  they 
have  a  Sumner  and  a  Ben  Butler.  Another  big 
seal  has  been  dubbed  by  some  patriotic  visitor 
General  Grant.  This  is  a  very  quiet  old  fellow, 
and  sleeps  most  of  the  time.  He  has  a  sullen, 
"  deep-mouthed  bay,"  yet  I  saw  enough  to  be  con- 
vinced that  his  bite  is  worse  than  his  bark ;  for 
while  I  was  regarding  him  as  he  lay  in  profound 
slumber,  an  enormous  seal  hitched  himself  up  out 
of  the  water  near  by,  made  a  careful  reconnoissance, 
and  deliberately  went  for  him.  You  should  have 
seen  the  old  Phocacean  majestically  rear  himself  on 
his  flippers,  should  have  heard  his  roar  of  angry 
defiance,  which  rang  above  the  dash  of  the  waves, 
and  was  echoed  by  every  loyal  seal  on  the  rocks. 


200  CALIFORNIA. 


except,  perhaps,  "  Sumner."  Then  began  one  of 
the  most  exciting  contests  I  ever  witnessed.  It 
seemed  to  come  off  in  "  rounds,"  Hke  a  prize-fight, 
the  first  assailant  continually  getting  the  worst  of 
it.  When  he  was  severely  "  punished  "  by  the  Gen- 
eral's tusks,  he  invariably  fell  back,  and  lifted  up 
his  voice  and  wept.  At  last,  after  half  a  dozen 
disastrous  attacks,  he  fell  so  far  back  that  he 
flopped  off  the  rock  into  the  water,  where  he  laid 
his  sore  head  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep,  and  sub- 
sided. The  victor  gave  one  triumphant  bark, 
turned  over,  and  went  to  sleep. 

We  had  a  sumptuous  lunch,  followed  by  the  most 
invigorating,  exhilarating,  and  altogether  jolly  beach- 
drive  I  have  ever  had  to  record,  and  I  have  en- 
joyed many  an  one  during  my  weary  earthly  pil- 
grimage. Our  drive  back  to  town  through  the  old 
Mission  Dolores  gave  us  charming  views  of  the 
ocean,  the  country,  and  the  city.  On  the  whole,  it 
was  a  day  to  be  "  marked  by  a  white  stone "  ;  but 
my  stock  of  pebbles  of  that  sort  is  giving  out. 

From  that  noisy  concourse  of  sea-lions  and  lion- 
esses to  a  gathering  of  the  "  best  society  "  of  San 
Francisco,  from  those  gray  rocks  to  elegant  salofis, 


PACIFIC   SOCIETY.  201 

from  no  dress  to  full  dress,  from  wild  barking  to 
classic  music,  from  flopping  to  galoping,  is  a  long 
step  ;  yet  the  next  incident  of  note  marked  in  my 
diary  is  a  large  party  at  the  house  of  his  Honor 
Mayor  Selby.  It  was  as  brilliant  and  enjoyable  an 
affair  as  the  most  cordial  hospitality,  the  most 
bounteous  entertainment,  fine  music,  flowers  in 
marvellous  abundance,  splendid  toilets,  beauty,  grace, 
and  gayety  could  make  it.  San  Francisco  has,  it 
seems  to  me,  an  uncommonly  large  proportion  of 
beautiful  women.  I  meet  at  every  social  gathering 
matrons  of  mature  age  and  over,  with  fine,  sym- 
metrical figures,  and  fresh,  clear  complexions  ;  and 
I  see  everywhere  young  girls  that  match  the  other- 
wise incomparable  roses  they  tend  on  their  lovely 
garden  terraces. 

I  have  spent  a  couple  of  mornings  in  the  Chi- 
nese quarter;  I  have  stood  hushed  in  the  "dim  re- 
ligious light"  of  the  Chinese  Temple,  and  snuffed 
the  incense  that  floats  about  the  shrine  of  Josh  ; 
I  have  dissipated  at  the  Chinese  Theatre.  But 
these  are  themes  to  be  served  up  by  themselves, 
and  with  more  ceremony.  I  do  not  like  to  pass 
over  in   silence,  yet    I    have    left    myself  no   space 

Q  * 


202  CALIFORNIA. 


worthily  to  recount,  my  next  and  most  delightful 
experience,  —  a  visit,  with  a  party  of  dear  old 
friends,  to  Glenwood,  Mr.  Ralston's  place  near  Bel- 
mont, on  the  San  Jose  Road,  with  excursions  to 
the  fine  country-seats  in  that  vicinity.  We  were 
met  at  San  Mateo,  about  six  miles  this  side  of 
Belmont,  by  Mr.  Ralston's  char-a-banc  and  four, 
and  driven  through  the  grounds  of  several  noble 
residences,  —  grounds  generously  open  to  the  pub- 
lic at  all  times.  I  have  never  seen  anything  in 
America  so  fine  as  some  of  the  avenues  and  parks 
we  drove  through  that  golden  afternoon.  They 
have  not  the  dainty  neatness  of  Eastern  parks  and 
pleasure-grounds,  but  they  are  more  picturesque  by 
far.  They  are  less  prim  than  primitive.  Nature 
has  been  respected  as  the  great  original  landscape- 
gardener.  These  are  grounds  to  satisfy  the  artist 
and  delight  the  sportsman ;  for  wild  vines  and 
shrubs  run  and  spread  "  at  their  own  sweet  will "  ; 
the  beautiful  gray  moss  festoons  the  limbs  of  gnarly 
old  oaks,  and  droops  and  trails  with  indescribable 
wild  grace ;  and  fallen  branches,  and  bushes,  and 
ferns  make  admirable  covers  for  game. 

Through    paling    sunset    glories   and    freshening 


A    SUBURBAN    VILLA.  203 

evening  airs  we  drove  up  the  Devil's  Canon,  in 
which  is  cunningly  and  cosily  hidden  away  Mr. 
Ralston's  charming  villa,  —  the  representative  "  open 
house  "  of  California,  the  very  temple  of  hospitality. 
It  may  be  expected  that  I  shall  describe  at  some 
length  a  visit  which  was  to  me  like  a  day  in  fairy- 
land, or  a  chapter  out  of  Lotbair  ;  but  when  I 
entered  that  house  I  left  the  reporter  outside. 
The  next  day,  after  lunch,  we  had  another  drive 
along  magnificent  roads,  and  through  a  bewildering 
succession  of  stately  avenues  and  noble  parks,  visit- 
ing vineyards  and  almond  orchards  and  wonderful 
flower-gardens  and  palatial  stables,  strolling  over 
lawns  still  marvellously  green,  rowing  in  miniature 
ponds,  petting  tame  deer,  —  such  lovely  or  lordly 
creatures  !  —  and  inspecting  beautiful  blood-horses. 
"  Beautiful  ?  Sir,  you  may  say  so ! "  There  was 
one  gray,  I  remember,  with  a  mane  like  the  surf 
of  the  Pacific,  and  a  tail  like  the  Bridal  Veil  of 
the  Yosemite. 

But  the  sun,  that  had  shone  all  day  long  with 
almost  midsummer  warmth  and  splendor,  dipped 
toward  the  waiting  sea,  casting  back  on  the  lovely 
coast    hills  a   smile   of  tender   reluctance.      So   we 


204  CALIFORNIA. 


went,  —  even  more  tenderly  reluctant,  —  met  the 
train  at  Menlo  Park,  and  reached  the  city  in  the 
early  evening,  —  like  children  tired  out  with  pleas- 
ure. 

December  19. 

I  do  not  much  object  to  the  steep  hills  of  San 
Francisco  when  the  weather  is  fair  and  I  am  not 
too  tired.  They  give  great  picturesqueness  and 
distinctiveness  to  the  city,  and  a  peculiar  foreign 
aspect,  reminding  one  of  old  Edinburgh  or  Genoa. 
The  higher  you  go,  the  purer  and  drier  is  the  air, 
and  the  finer  the  prospect.  Invalids  should  not 
remain  down  in  the  business  part  of  the  town,  dur- 
ing the  winter  at  least.  This,  I  am  told,  is  the 
most  healthful  and  agreeable  season  for  a  sojourn 
in  San  Francisco.  The  cold  winds  which  blow 
fiercely  and  continually  through  the  mock  summer 
are  laid,  and  bright  and  balmy  weather  is,  after  the 
"  big  rain,"  the  rule.  Incredible  as  the  stories  of 
Munchausen  seem  the  accounts  which  come  to  us 
of  the  heavy  snows  and  intense  cold  on  the  other 
slope  of  the  continent. 

Tie  weather  "  sharps  "  of  the  signal  service  were 
true  prophets ;  for  the  great  coast-storm  is  upon  us. 


KILLING   TIME.  205 


It  is  something  tremendous,  stupendous !  We  are 
shut  in  by  a  leaden  wall  of  rain,  — "  corralled,"  or, 
to  speak  more  poetically,  "enclosed,  in  a  tumultuous 
privacy  of  storm."  So  at  last  I  get  a  chance  to 
write.  Duty  is,  at  the  best,  a  little  dismal ;  and  I 
go  to  my  work  on  this  dark  and  tempestuous  day 
in  no  hilarious  mood.  Yet  everybody  else  is  hav- 
ing a  damp  jubilee.  Universal  California  rejoices 
in  this  flood  as  it  never  rejoiced  in  sunshine  and 
soft  airs.  What  wonders  it  will  do  for  the  crops, 
and  what  miracles  for  the  gardens ! 

A  fortnight  or  so  ago,  I  visited  San  Jose,  and 
had  an  odd  little  adventure.  Ill  luck  attended  that 
expedition  from  the  beginning.  A  friend  who  was 
to  have  accompanied  me  failed  me  at  the  last  mo- 
ment. It  was  Saturday  afternoon.  I  went  to  the 
station  in  good  time  for  the  3.10  train  to  find  that 
on  that  day  it  went  at  2.10,  was  already  gone, 
and  I  had  more  than  two  hours  to  wait  for  the 
last  evening  train.  I  walked  the  platform  furiously 
for  half  an  hour,  like  a  Beecher  or  a  Dickinson  ; 
then,  seeing  that  "  Woodward's  Garden,"  a  famous 
and  a  really  interesting  and  beautiful  pleasure  re- 
sort,  was   near   by,  I   went   over   there   with    mur- 


2o6  '  CALIFORNIA. 


derous  intent  against  time.  But  can  anything  be 
more  melancholy  than  such  a  compulsory  "  bender  "  ? 
Disappointed,  vexed,  tired,  solitary,  nothing  moved 
me  to  wonder  or  admiration.  I  went  into  the 
tropical  conservatory  ;  but  saw  nothing  better  than 
we  have  at  Washington,  and  nothing  new,  except 
the  "  miracle  flower,"  so  called,  named  the  Espiritii 
Sanctii,  or  Holy  Ghost,  —  a  little  white  blossom, 
which,  to  a  devout  imagination,  bears  some  resem- 
blance to  a  dove  with  extended  wings.  I  was  dis- 
appointed in  finding  it  so  small,  and  said  as  much 
to  the  Irish  gardener,  who  took  fire  (holy  fire)  at 
once,  and  indignantly  asked  if  I  had  expected  it 
to  be  "  as  big  as  a  live  pigeon."  I  meekly  an- 
swered "  No,"  but  that  the  advertisement  had  led 
me  to  expect  something  like  a  good-sized  squab. 
As  I  passed  on,  I  have  no  doubt  that  man  set 
me  down  as  having  committed  the  unpardonable 
sin. 

I  did  not  linger  in  the  art  gallery  ;  for  "  art  is 
long,"  especially  the  Greek  Slave,  "and  time  is 
fleeting."  I  went  into  the  skating  rink,  and  sat 
down  in  a  festive  crowd  of  my  fellow-beings,  who 
knew   me    not.     I    could   have   eaten   peanuts   with 


INCONSOLABLE    ENNUI.  207 

perfect  impunity.  There  was  a  "  skatorial  queen " 
and  a  "  champion  skater."  But  man  on  rollers  de- 
lighted not  me.,  nor  woman  neither.  The  champion 
imitated  a  drunken  man  to  the  life  ;  but  even  that 
failed  to  cheer  me.  A  handsome  trapeze  performer 
leaped  and  plunged  in  mid-air,  like  a  gigantic  frog, 
in  tinsel  and  tights  ;  and  not  a  pulse  thrilled  with 
generous  admiration  or  alarm.  He  performed,  also, 
as  a  tumbler  and  contortionist;  but  the  prospect  of 
his  tying  himself  in  an  acrobatic  hard  knot  and 
being  unable  to  untie  himself  was  naught  to  me. 
I  fear  that  if  he  had  broken  his  neck  in  one  of 
his  compound  somersaults,  I  should  have  regarded 
the  catastrophe  with  something  of  the  cool  phi- 
losophy of  Bridget  in  the  kitchen,  "  Sure,  thin, 
what's  one  tumbler  more  nor  less.''" 

After  that  exhibition  I  did  not  dare  to  visit 
the  monkey  department,  for  fear  that  it  would  be 
"  borne  in  upon  me "  that  Mr.  Darwin's  theory  is 
true.  I  did  not  even  visit  the  pet  seals,  lest  I  should 
wish  myself  one,  with  a  nice  little  tank  to  disport 
in,  and  a  comfortable  rock  to  sleep  on,  instead  of 
being  obliged  to  flop  over  a  continent,  seeking  rest 
and  finding  none. 


208  CALIFORNIA. 


On  the  train,  at  last,  and  away !  It  was  early- 
twilight  when  we  passed  Millbrae  and  the  magnifi- 
cent country-seat  of  Mr.  Mills,  the  president  of  the 
Bank  of  California,  and  dusk  when  we  went  by 
Belmont.  With  the  fall  of  night  the  wind  rose. 
There  was  a  full  moon,  but  it  pursued  its  credit- 
able career  under  difficulties,  —  now  wading  through 
drifting  clouds,  now  quite  hidden  from  view,  I  sat 
alone  by  a  window,  silent  of  course,  looking  out 
on  the  shadowy,  flying  landscape,  and  watching 
that  determined  and  indomitable  luminary,  the  only 
familiar  face  in  sight.  I  mused  on  the  mysteries 
of  creation,  and  studied  out  the  trimming  for  a 
new  gown.  I  yawned,  I  dozed,  —  the  way  seemed 
intolerably  long.  At  last  came  the  conductor  for 
the  tickets,  and  I  asked,  "  How  soon  shall  we  reach 
San  Jose  ? " 

"  In  about  fifteen  minutes,  ma'am." 

I  got  together  my  traps  ;  then  settled  down 
against  the  window,  took  another  lunar  observation, 
and  dozed,  it  seemed  to  me,  full  fifteen  minutes. 
The  train  stopped.  A  family  party  near  me  rose 
and  went  out,  and  I  rose  and  went  out  after  them. 
By  the  way,  the  names  of  stations  are  not  called 


LEFT  OUT  IN  THE  COLD.  209 

on  these  California  railroads.  People  hereabouts 
are  supposed  to  have  cut  their  canines.  I  looked 
neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left,  but  walked  for- 
ward to  where  I  saw  a  light,  to  claim  my  baggage. 
Here  I  soon  discovered  that  I  was  not  at  San 
Jose.  The  train  was  starting ;  I  started  too,  to 
jump  aboard,  but  suddenly  changed  my  mind. 
Five  years  ago  I  should  have  done  it.  Now  I 
have  outgrown  such  follies.  I  found  myself  left  at 
a  little  way-station,  several  miles  this  side  of  San 
Jose,  and  with  scarce  a  house  in  sight !  My  emo- 
tions, when  I  saw  that  locomotive  go  snorting  and 
prancing  off,  whisking  his  tail  of  cars,  and  when 
I  looked  around  me,  on  the  strange,  lonely  land- 
scape, can  be  slightly  better  imagined  than  de- 
scribed. I  felt  as  felt  my  good  friend  "  Sunset " 
Cox,  when  he  was  caught  out  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain storm, —  I  "wanted  to  go  home." 

Then  began  a  hurried  and,  on  my  part,  an  excit- 
ing dialogue  with  the  station-master  :  — 

"  Can  I  hire  a  carriage  here  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am  ;  there 's  no  such  thing  to  be  had. 
I  did  have  a  buggy  last  year,  but  it 's  broke." 

"  What   is   the   nearest   town   ahead  .-* " 

N 


2IO  CALIFORNIA. 


"  Santa   Clara." 

"  How   far   away.?" 

"  About   four   miles." 

"  Can't  I  telegraph  to  a  hotel  there  for  a  car- 
riage   to   be    sent   here   for  me  ? " 

"  You  might,  ma'am,  but  the  telegraph-opera- 
tor   has    took    sick    and   gone    home." 

"  Well,  what  can  I  do .?  I  can't  stay  here  all 
night." 

"  Why,  no,  that 's  so  !  If  you  're  used  to  the 
saddle,  I  've  got  a  horse  you  can  ride  to  some 
house  hereabouts  where  you  can  get  a  vehicle 
of    some   sort." 

I  assented  gladly,  and  I  flatter  myself  pluckily, 
to  this  vague  proposition  ;  but  that  romantic 
horseback  ride  by  moonlight  was  not  to  be. 
The  travellers  who  had  left  the  cars  with  me  — 
a  party  consisting  of  a  gentleman  farmer,  his 
wife  and  baby  (which  their  name  is  Putnam)  — 
had  a  carriage  waiting  for  them.  They  saw  my 
painful  embarrassment.  Putnam  himself,  with  true 
Christian  chivalry,  refused  to  leave  me  there,  or 
to  consent  to  the  proposed  equestrian  arrange- 
ment.    In   short,   he   invited   me    to  go   home  with 


TAKEN     IN    AND    DONE     FOR.  211 

them,  take  supper,  and  then,  if  I  could  not 
spend  the  night,  he  said  I  should  be  sent  over 
to  San  Jose.  How  pleasantly  and  gratefully  I 
remember  the  hearty,  manly  way  in  which  this 
"  aid  and  comfort "  was  proffered.  And  yet  he 
had  no  idea  who  I  was  ;  to  him  I  was  only 
an  unprotected  and  very  stupid  female  in  diffi- 
culties. In  fact,  I  was  ashamed  to  reveal  myself. 
I  accepted  his  kind  offer ;  I  could  not  do  other- 
wise ;  but  I  felt  inexpressibly  mortified  and  as- 
tonished that  I,  old  traveller  as  I  am,  could  be 
capable  of  making  a  blunder  so  incredible.  My 
new  friend  and  helper  tried  to  divert  my  thoughts, 
as  we  drove  over  to  his  place,  by  remarking  on 
the  moon  and  the  ominous  halo  around  it  ;  but 
I  had  done  mooning  enough  in  the  cars. 
Before  a  pleasant  wood-fire,  in  the  parlor  of  a 
pretty  farm-house,  I  at  last  made  myself  known, 
to  find  to  my  comfort  that  both  my  host  and 
hostess  were  old  friends,  "according  to  the 
spirit."  After  this  everything  was  lovely.  We 
had  a  warm  supper,  and  then  the  whole  party 
of  good  Samaritans  (barring  the  baby)  went  with 
me   over   to   San    ]os6,  —  a  six-mile  drive,   half  of 


212  CALIFORNIA. 


it   leading    under   tlie    grand    arches   of    the    Ala- 
meda, an    avenue  of    oaks,  willows,  and  sycamores, 
planted   nearly    a    hundred    years   ago    by  the   pa- 
dres   of    the     old     missions    of    Santa    Clara    and 
San   Jose.     The   night  was   still  a   little  wild,  with 
cold  winds   and   driving   clouds.      The   shadows   of 
the   gnarly  old    trees    had   a   weird    effect,    tossing 
and     surging    like     spectral    waves    on     the    white 
sand     of     the     lonely    road,    where     nothing    was 
heard    but    the    quick    fall    of    our   horses'    hoofs, 
the    creak    of    swaying    branches,    and    the    rustle 
of  drifting  leaves.     We  reached  San  Jos^  at  about 
ten    o'clock,    took    leave    of    each    other,    and    my 
adventure  was    over.      Though    the    mishap   was   a 
little    rough    at    the    time,    I    would   not    lose    the 
recollection    of    it   for   any    entertainment   my    San 
Francisco  friends  can   give  me,  and  that  is  saying 
a  great  deal.     It  made    me   think   better  of  human 
nature    (not    that    I   ever   thought   very    ill    of  it), 
and    love    generous,    hospitable    Californians    more 
than    ever;  and    it   took   the    conceit    out    of   me 
as    a    strong-minded    woman   of    the    world,    inde- 
pendent,    and    knowing    a    thing     or     two     about 
traveling.      Since   that    experience    I    am    a    sore 


SANTA   CLARA.  213 

trial  to  conductors  in  my  fear  of  getting  some- 
where, or  not  getting  somewhere,  without  know- 
ing  it 

I  have  tempted  the  gods  by  a  second  visit  to 
San  Jos6  and  Santa  Clara.  There  is  an  odor 
of  defunct  sanctity  all  over  this  region.  San 
Jose  is  a  beautiful  city,  with  some  pleasant  drives 
beside  the  ever-charming  Alameda,  a  noble  new 
court-house,  and  several  fine  private  residences. 
The  show-place  is  General  Negley's,  and  it  is 
one  which  any  prince  might  be  proud  of,  and 
such  as  few  princes  deserve.  At  Santa  Clara 
there  is  a  large  Jesuit  college  and  an  old  adobe 
church-  The  latter  is  a  dim,  damp,  musty, 
weather  -  stained,  and  earthquake  -  marred  edifice, 
adorned  with  some  curious,  not  to  say  grotesque, 
frescoes,  painted,  it  is  said,  long  ago  by  a  na- 
tive artist,  an  Indian  convert.  If  so,  "the  last 
state  of  that  man  was  worse  than  the  first." 
One  of  the  pictures  on  the  wall  —  that  of  a 
saintly  old  monk  in  his  cell  —  is  so  striking  a 
likeness  of  the  sagacious  and  loquacious  states- 
man of  Kentucky,  Garret  Davis,  that  one  could 
almost    believe     it    a    portrait    of     that    venerable 


214  CALIFORNIA. 


senator,  doing  penance  for  his  sins  of  speech, 
or  taking  sanctuary  here  from  the  evil  rule  of 
Republicanism    and   the   buffetings   of  Butler. 

We  were  very  courteously  shown  all  through 
the  college,  which  seems  an  excellent  institution, 
admirably  practical  in  its  character.  The  inner 
court,  or  garden,  with  its  long  piazzas,  its  aloes, 
myrtles,  roses,  and  lemon,  orange,  almond,  and 
olive  trees,  reminded  me  of  the  cloisters  and 
court  in  the  picturesque  old  inn  of  Amalfi, 
once  a  convent.  The  whole  scene  was  marvel- 
ously  like  Italy,  —  the  Jesuit  priests,  with  their 
long  black  robes  ;  the  quaint  old  church  ;  the 
older  cross  before  it.  Even  the  picturesque 
peasant  figures  were  there,  lounging  about  the 
church  door,  and  kneeling  before  the  shrine  of 
the  Virgin.  Some  swarthy  Mexicanos  looked  the 
lazzaroni  character  to  the  life.  But,  thank  Heav- 
en !  they  did  not  beg,  nor  smell  of  garlic,  like  the 
genuine  Neapolitan  article ;  and  there  were  no 
snuffy,  shuffling,  shaven  old  mendicant  friars  to 
be  seen. 

San  Francisco  has  been  having  a  sensation  lately, 
which  has  shaken  the  many-hilled  city  like  a   mild 


A     GLIMMER     OF    GHOSTS.  2l5 

earthquake.  Ghost  faces  have  appeared  in  divers 
window-panes  about  town !  The  first  spectre  of 
this  kind  was  discovered  in  the  front  window  of  a 
very  respectable  house  occupied  by  a  widow,  who, 
it  is  said,  recognized  it  as  the  apparition  of  her 
late  husband.  It  caused  a  tremendous  excitement. 
Jones,  living,  might  have  gazed  out  of  that  window, 
with  that  doleful  expression  (for  it  is  a  most  in- 
felicitous-looking ghost)  for  every  day  of  a  long  and 
virtuous  life,  and  nobody  would  have  heeded  him  ; 
but  Jones,  defunct,  drew  half  the  town  to  gape  at 
him.  Of  course  /  went  to  see  the  crowd.  That,  by 
the  way,  was  what  everybody  said  they  went  to  see. 
I  found  that  the  widow  had  been  so  beset  by  visitors 
and  reporters  that  she  had  brought  herself,  for  a 
consideration,  to  part  a  second  time  with  her  hus- 
band,—  one  gets  used  to  these  afl^lictions,  —  and 
that  he  had  been  removed  to  Woodward's  Garden, 
where  he  was  drawing  well.  Scarcely  was  he  gone 
when  other  ghosts  appeared  in  neighboring  win- 
dows, staring  out  of  their  crystalline  limbo  on  a 
marveling  or  mocking  world,  looking  more  or  less 
miserable,  as  though  in  purgatorial  panes.  These 
new-comers  I   saw,   and    I    must    confess   that   they 


2l6  CALIFORNIA. 

were  to  me  something  quite  inexplicable.  They 
seem  to  have  been  done  in,  not  on,  the  glass,  and 
are  scarcely  of  a  character  to  serve  any  purpose 
of  ornamental  art.  They  are  the  very  diabolism  of 
photography.  I  cannot  even  guess  at  the  process 
by  which  they  are  made  to  appear  as  and  where 
they  are.  But  ghost  "sharps"  tell  me  they  are 
quite  inferior  to  the  original  apparition  now  at  the 
Garden.  That,  however,  is  said  to  be  fading 
slowly  away.  Jones  evidently  does  n't  feel  at  home 
there.  He  was  a  family  man.  Bids  are  not  lively 
for  the  other  panes  ;  the  spectre  business  has  been 
overdone,  and  speculators  are  fearful  of  taking  a 
glass  too  much. 

During  the  dismal  deluge  which  came  upon  us 
in  the  holidays,  I  could  not  write,  of  course.  I  fled 
to  Belmont,  to  the  society  of  the  beautiful  and 
beloved  Portia,  who  there  presides,  —  to  whom  the 
wise  men  of  the  East  and  the  princes  of  Cathay 
and  Cipango  pay  homage.  In  those  wide,  hos- 
pitable halls  I  found  gayety  unclouded  and  bloom 
undrenched,  —  a  clime  and  a  climate  of  their  own. 
There  it  was  out  of  the  question  for  me  to  shut 
myself  up  and  work.     I  would  be  idle  if  I  died  for 


STORM   AND   SUNSHINE.  217 


it.  Besides,  it  was  so  discouraging  to  hear  of  rail- 
roads and  bridges  washed  away  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  mail-bags  afloat.  I  half  believed  that, 
should  I  write  my  MS.,  I  would  have  to  bottle  it 
up  and  let  it  drift.  Then  came  the  snow-block- 
ades, and  the  prospect  of  all  mail  matter  en  route 
being  frozen  up,  not  to  be  thawed  out  before 
spring. 

Since  the  storm,  life  in  California  has  worn  a 
particularly  festive  aspect.  The  hills  have  put  on 
new  coats  of  loveliest,  liveliest  green.  In  the  gar- 
dens, the  lilies  and  geraniums  have  taken  heart  of 
grace ;  red  and  white  roses  have  flung  out  fresh 
banners  of  bloom,  as  though  ready  to  resume  the 
old  York  and  Lancaster  strife.  The  beauty  of 
these  winter  days  —  falsely  so  called  —  is  inde- 
scribable. It  is  now,  from  morn  to  dewy  eve, 
one  steady  tempest  of  sunshine,  as  a  little  while 
ago  it  was  one  steady  storm  of  rain.  Doubtless 
we  shall  have  plenty  of  dark  and  rainy  days  yet 
this  season,  but  the  wettest  of  the  wet  must  be 
past.  I  had  before  heard  of  "  sheets  of  rain,"  but 
here  it  came  down  in  blankets,  —  coverlets.  There 
was  not,  it  proved,  a  perfectly  water-proof  house  in 
10 


2l8  CALIFORNIA. 


the  city.  You  know  all  the  Pacific  coast  Chris- 
tians had  been  petitioning  and  sacrificing  for  rain 
for  some  two  years,  so  that  there  were  long  arrear- 
ages of  prayers  to  be  answered  ;  and  it  descended 
till  every  reasonable  claim  on  the  bounty  of  Provi- 
dence was  liquidated.  After  the  storm,  came  the 
Japanese  Embassy,  dropping  down  on  "  Frisco  "  as 
though  out  of  another  planet.  They  have  all  been 
very  thoroughly  lionized.  The  Prime  Minister, 
Prince  Iwakura,  is  rnuch  commended  for  his  "wise 
saws "  and  Oriental  courtesy ;  and  the  princesses 
brought  over  for  their  education  are  admired  as 
remarkably  modest  and  well-behaved  young  ladies. 
They  are  said  to  be  impatient  to  don  the  Ameri- 
can dress,  which  they  admire,  "  all  but  the  hump 
on  the  back." 

Prince  Iwakura  gives  it  out  as  his  opinion  that 
women  should  Le  educated  equally  with  men. 
These  heathens  are  getting  on  quite  too  fast.  Let 
the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  For- 
eign Missions  look  to  it,  and  send  a  fresh  squad 
of  missionaries  to  Japan.  And  let  care  be  taken 
to  select  pious  young  men  from  Yale  and  Andover, 
—  not    from    the    women-invaded    universities    of 


LIGHT     FROM     THE    ORIENT.  219 

Michigan  and  California.  They  may  be  martyred, 
these  apostles  of  godly  conservatism  ;  but  they  will 
die  in  a  good  cause.  This  pestilent  woman  ques- 
tion is  traveling  round  the  world  in  advance  of 
the  telegraph.  I  have  a  poetic  friend  in  this  city 
who  is  about  to  flee  to  a  lonely  island  in  the 
South  Seas  to  get  away  from  it.  I  tell  him  he 
flees  in  vain.  The  Robinson  Crusoe  of  to-day 
finds  on  the  rocks  of  his  Juan  Fernandez  notices 
of  Women's  Rights  Conventions  pleasantly  inter- 
mingled with  advertisements  of  patent-right  medi- 
cines. 

I  have  lately  paid  a  visit  to  Sacramento,  and 
seen  the  State  Solons  in  council  assembled,  —  a 
fine,  live-looking  set  of  men.  The  new  Capitol  is 
a  noble  building,  bearing  a  striking  resemblance  to 
the  dear  old  national  Capitol  we  fondly  remember 
as  more  symmetrical,  if  less  magnificent,  than  the 
sacred  conglomerate  edifice  we  all  at  Washington 
turn  our  faces  toward,  at  morning  and  evening 
devotions. 

I  was  charmingly  entertained  at  the  beautiful 
residence  of  ex-Governor  Stanford,  —  gracious  King 
Leland,  —  monarch  of  all  the  railroads  he  surveys  ; 


220  CALIFORNIA. 


a  man  not  only  with  a  masterly  brain  for  affairs, 
for  the  management  of  gigantic  enterprises,  for 
knowledge  of  men  and  means,  but  with  a  fair,  lib- 
eral mind  and  a  kindly  heart,  —  a  true  representa- 
tive man  for  a  grand  State  like  California,  almost 
an  empire. 

The  site  of  Sacramento  is  low  and  flat,  and  in 
some  of  the  lower  grade  unpaved  streets  there 
were  depths  of  mud  apparently  unfathomable ;  but 
still  we  drove  much  about  town  and  a  mile  or 
two  into  the  country,  our  driver  continually  pick- 
ing the  way.  There  are  in  Sacramento  many 
elegant  private  residences,  and  it  abounds  and 
superabounds    in   shrubberies   and   flowers. 

With  my  ruling  passion  strong  even  in  Califor- 
nia, I  was  not  long  in  making  affectionate  inquiries 
of  Governor  Stanford  in  regard  to  his  famous  trot- 
ting horse  Charley,  or  Occident,  as  he  had  been 
lately  christened.  In  reply,  my  host  offered  to 
drive  me  out  to  the  race-course  where  the  animal 
is  kept,  that  I  might  see  for  myself;  and  the  next 
morning  I  had  the  honor  of  a  presentation  to  the 
most  princely  piece  of  horse-flesh  I  have  seen  for 
many  a  long  day.     Though  not  showy,  and  not,  at 


A   PRINCELY   STEED.  221 


present,  carefully  kept  up,  he  is  really  a  grand 
creature,  beautiful  almost  equally  in  action  and  re- 
pose, intelligent,  gentle,  tractable,  yet  full  of  joy- 
ous fire.  I  did  not  see  him  in  harness,  as  the 
ground  was  too  heavy  to  allow  of  his  being  put  to 
his  speed  ;  but  a  little  son  of  the  trainer  mounted 
him  bare-back,  and  let  me  see  something  of  his  ac- 
tion. The  morning  was  beautiful,  and  he  seemed 
to  revel  in  the  sunshine  and  fresh  air,  and  to 
thrill  with  a  fine  ecstasy  of  life.  The  trainer 
of  this  horse  is  a  Yankee  of  the  Yanks,  who 
devotes  himself  to  his  charge  with  the  utmost  en- 
thusiasm, and  brings  up  his  children  in  the  same 
fealty.  Every  night  he  or  one  of  his  boys  sleeps 
beside  Royal  Charley,  ready  to  wake  at  his  lightest 
whinny.  In  truth,  the  horse  is  far  less  an  object 
of  pride  and  solicitude  to  his  owner  than  to  his 
trainer.  No  railroads  come  in  to  rival,  no  steam- 
boats to  run  him  down,  in  the  loyal  affections  of 
"Yank  Smith."  He  is  jealous  of  his  record  to 
the  fourth  part  of  a  second. 

Charley's  pedigree  has  not  been  fully  and  accu- 
rately made  out.  He  is  supposed  to  be  of  Mor- 
gan stock,    and    was    raised    in    the    country,    near 


222  CALIFORNIA. 


Sacramento,  He  passed  into  the  possession  of  a 
man  who  worked  him  in  drawing  sand  for  the 
railroad,  with  a  much  larger  horse,  who  was  slow 
and  did  not  do  his  share  of  the  work ;  so  finally 
his  owner  sold  him  to  a  butcher  for  seventy-five 
dollars,  saying  that  he  could  get  a  horse  for  sixty 
dollars  that  would  answer  his  purpose  as  well. 
The  butcher  sold  him  to  a  ranchman,  who  drove 
him  in  a  market-wagon.  A  neighbor,  a  little  wiser 
in  horse-matters,  bought  him  for  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  gave  him  a  little  training,  and  sold 
him  to  Governor  Stanford  for  four  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars  and  a  valuable  horse  named 
Grant.  Since  his  wonderful  speed  has  been  ascer- 
tained. Governor  Stanford  has  received  immense 
offers  for  him.  One  demented  admirer  offered  a 
ranch  and  seventy-five  horses  of  good  blood,  for 
all  of  which  possessions  he  would  not  take,  he 
said,  seventy-five  thousand  dollars.  In  refusing 
this  handsome  offer,  the  governor  said  he  was  re- 
minded of  a  story  he  read  in  his  boyhood  of  an 
English  highwayman  (perhaps  Dick  Turpin),  who 
once,  when  fleeing  from  the  sheriff  and  hard 
pressed,  caused  his  horse    (perhaps    Black  Bess)   to 


Charley's  "time."  223 


take  an  astonishing  leap  over  a  chasm  or  stream, 
which  feat  a  wonder-struck  farmer,  beholding,  cried 
out,  "  I  would  give  fifty  bullocks  for  that  horse  ! " 
But  the  flying  robber  shouted  back,  "Fifty  bul- 
locks could  n't  take  that  leap  ! " 

Charley  is  now  eight  years  old.  He  is  fifteen 
and  one  half  hands  high,  and,  when  in  good  con- 
dition for  speed,  weighs  eight  hundred  and  sixty 
pounds.  He  is  in  color  a  rich  bay,  which  be- 
comes a  dark  brown  in  winter. 

The  track  of  the  Sacramento  Trotting  Park, 
though  the  best  in  the  State,  is  not  in  a  condition 
to  make  a  perfect  test  of  the  speed  of  this  re- 
markable horse.  It  is  too  flat  and  sharp  at  the 
turns.  The  governor  is  having  these  defects  rem- 
edied, so  in  a  few  months  we  may  hear  great 
things  of  this  wonder  of  the  West,  and  Dexter 
and  Goldsmith  Maid  may  have  a  rival  in  the 
future.  The  tests  of  speed  thus  far  (though 
Smith  declares  that  the  horse  has  never  yet  put 
forth  his  best  energies)  have  given  this  result. 
Ecco !  Best  mile,  2.  i8|  ;  best  half-mile,  1.05; 
best  quarter,  3I2  seconds.  Smith  evidently  believes 
his    pet   to    be    the    fastest    horse    in    the    world, 


224  CALIFORNIA. 


"when  his  work  is  fairly  cut  out  afore  him";  and 
perhaps  he  is,  as  California  is  undoubtedly  the 
fastest  country  in  the  world. 

I  made  the  journey  down  to  San  Francisco  on 
a  glorious  afternoon.  The  country,  such  of  it  as 
was  out  of  water,  looked  green  with  promise  where 
the  wild  turf  stretched  away  in  mighty,  magnificent 
undulations,  and  where  ploughed  lands  awaited  the 
planter  and  the  sower.     Ah,  '  there  's  richness  ! ' " 

We  have  lately  had  an  Artists'  Reception, — 
a  very  gay  and  charming  affair.  All  the  beauty 
and  fashion  and  celebrity  of  San  Francisco  were 
there,  with  several  distinguished  and  many  un- 
distinguished strangers,  and,  of  course,  all  the 
editors  and  reporters  and  Bohemians.  Bierstadt 
was  there  with  his  lovely  wife.  They  have  come 
here  to  winter,  to  be  ready  for  another  trium- 
phant art-campaign  in  the  spring.  Stoddard,  the 
poet  (he  of  the  Pacific  coast  and  strain),  was 
there  with  his  kindly,  languid  smile,  —  a  young 
man  whom  everybody  likes  and  calls  "  Charley "  ; 
and  Joaquin  Miller,  rough  of  dress,  but  mild 
of  address,  pale  and  pensive  and  peculiar,  trying 
his   best   to   look   unconscious   of    the  wistful   gaze 


NOTABLE   PEOPLE.  225 

of  hundreds  of  bright  eyes.  Quite  the  opposite 
of  this  pale,  wild  Swinburne  of  the  Sierras  was 
the  genial  and  fresh-hearted  English  gentleman 
and  fine  actor,  Henry  Edwards,  with  his  won- 
derful atmosphere  of  joyous  vitality,  naturalness, 
and  manliness.  Everybody  likes  him  too,  and 
calls  him  "  Harry,"  but  no  man  has  more  the 
respect  of  the  community.  The  stage,  if  it  does 
not  meet  all  his  aspirations,  has  not  destroyed 
them ;  if  it  does  not  satisfy,  it  has  not  spoiled 
him.  He  devotes  himself  with  singular  enthusi- 
asm to  natural  science,  and  has  one  of  the 
very  finest  private  collections  of  butterflies  and 
beetles  in  the  world.  A  finished  and  conscien- 
tious artist,  he  yet  makes  his  art  almost  second- 
ary to  science.  His  theatrical  tours  are  butterfly 
chases  as  well.  By  the  way,  we  have  had  a  little 
theatrical  sensation  here,  —  the  appearance,  for 
the  first  time  in  English,  of  Madam  Veneta,  a 
favorite  German  actress.  I  have  seen  her  as 
Lady  Macbeth,  and  that  heart-rending  Deborah. 
She  is  a  woman  of  undeniable  genius,  some- 
what unequal  in  her  acting,  but,  for  the  most 
part,  playing  with  singular  intensity  and  absorp- 
10*  o 


!26  CALIFORNIA. 


tion.  She  played  poor,  fiery,  forsaken  Deborah 
with  truth  and  tenderness,  with  superb  scorn  and 
magnificent  abandon.  She  is  not  very  young  ; 
she  could  hardly  have  united  such  concentration 
of  passion  and  such  self-mastery  if  she  were. 
She  is  not  decidedly  beautiful,  but  her  face  has 
immense  power  of  expression.  She  speaks  Eng- 
lish remarkably  well,  with  but  a  slight  accent, 
and  in  a  voice  singularly  like  that  of  Charlotte 
Cushman,  whose  magnificently  passionate  acting  she 
frequently  reminds  me  of. 

Sacramento,  March  4. 

All  weather  wiseacres  unite  in  saying  that 
there  has  never  been  a  winter  like  this  on  the 
Pacific  coast,  for  rain,  since  that  of  the  great 
flood  in  1862.  I  was  just  getting  disheartened, 
had  ceased  my  song  of  glorification,  and  was 
ready   to  sing, 

"I  would  not  live  alway,  in  California, 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way," 

when  the  wind  changed,  chopped  round  to 
nor'-nor'west,  and  the  sun  came  out  in  all  his 
splendor  and  bravery,  to  open  his  spring  cam- 
paign against  flood  and  mud. 


STOCKTON    MUD   AND    DARKNESS.  227 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  dismal  than 
my  visit  to  Stockton.  For  most  of  the  time  the 
rain  fell  in  torrents,  and  all  the  time  the  town 
seemed  one  vast  slough.  In  early  days  Stockton 
was  celebrated  for  depths  of  mud,  not  only  un- 
fathomable, but  unimaginable,  and  it  has  bravely 
held  its  own.  By  the  way,  it  was  the  scene  of 
the  old  legend  of  the  miner's  hat,  seen  one  still, 
spring  day  mysteriously  moving  along  the  surface 
of  the  ground  ;  which  hat  was  discovered  to  have 
a  stranger  under  it ;  which  stranger,  when  extri- 
cated, shouted  that  he  had  "a  mule  down  thar." 
I  myself  saw  an  enterprising  lad,  probably  a 
news-boy,  going  about  town  on  stilts.  Fortunate- 
ly the  sidewalks  are  high  and  dry  above  this 
black  profound. 

They  have  in  Stockton  an  uncommon  com- 
mon council  for  economy.  They  stoutly  refuse 
to  light  the  streets,  though  they  have  good  gas- 
works, and  though  they  have  an  excellent  Mayor, 
of  Boston  stock,  who  wrestles  with  them  on  the 
light  question  continually.  So,  by  night,  when  the 
heavens  are  unpropitious,  all  is  Tartarean  dark- 
ness, above   and  below.     If  nocturnally  you    would 


228  CALIFORNIA. 


"  See  fair  Stockton  aright, 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moonlight." 

Stockton  makes  much  of  the  moon.  She  has 
the  great  State  Lunatic  Asylum.  The  same 
economical  city  fathers  who  decline  to  light  the 
streets,  so  that  good  people  can  attend  lectures  on 
dark  nights  with  safety,  actually  levied  on  me  a 
tax  of  five  dollars  for  the  blessed  privilege  of 
reading  to  a  few  citizens,  who  came  out  on  that 
dark  and  doleful  night  with  lanterns  and  um- 
brellas, a  highly  moral  essay  on  "  Heroism  in 
Common  Life,"  and  never  did  people  stand  more 
in  need  of  encouragement  in  well-doing.  It  was 
the  first  experience  of  the  kind  I  ever  had ; 
and  I  hope  it  will  be  the  last,  —  for  the  good 
of  my  temper,  which  it  would  be  a  pity  to  have 
soured,  at  this  late  day.  I  resented  it,  as  I 
always  resent  "  taxation  without  representation." 
If  the  town  had  been  represented  in  proportion 
to  its  population  —  not  counting  the  asylumites 
—  at  my  moral  and  aesthetic  entertainment,  the 
thing  would  have  been  more  endurable. 

Sacramento  is  always  pleasant  to  me,  mud  or 
no    mud,    for    its    excellent    society,    for    the    cor- 


SACRAMENTO   SOCIETY.  229 

dial  hearts  and  keen  intellects  I  meet  here,  for 
the  air  of  enterprise  and  activity  which  reminds 
one  constantly  of  the  good  fight  this  people  have 
made  against  adverse  fortunes,  against  fire  and 
flood. 

The  house  at  which  I  am  again  entertained, 
though  for  the  most  part  new  and  altogether  mag- 
nificent,—  the  large  house  of  a  large  man  (in  every 
sense),  —  is  already  pervaded  by  the  true  home 
atmosphere,  suggestive  of  absolute  ease  and  com- 
fort. There  is  no  grand  apartment  too  grand  to 
be  lived  in  and  thoroughly  enjoyed.  None  are 
shut  up  for  state  occasions.  No  richest  damask 
chairs  are  tabooed^  or  bagged  in  ghostly  linen.  The 
whole  noble  mansion  seems  to  me  a  type  of  the 
generous,  bounteous,  almost  prodigal  hospitality  of 
this  country. 

Perhaps  I  may  be  pardoned  for  speaking  more 
particularly  of  Sacramento  society.  Like  that  of 
all  capitals,  it  is  gay  and  fashionable;  but  I  daily 
meet  with  evidences  of  a  good  deal  besides,  and 
better  than  gayety  and  fashion.  The  governor 
himself,  Mr.  Booth,  is  a  man  of  quite  extraordinary 
eloquence   and    culture,  and    several   of    the    State 


230  CALIFORNIA. 


officers,  men  young  or  in  their  early  prime,  are 
rare  scholars  and  gentlemen.  I  find  Sacramento 
ladies  very  charming,  with  an  unusual  amount  of 
vivacity,  and  a  graceful  and  gracious  friendliness 
of  manner  peculiarly  pleasant  to  me  as  a  stranger. 
The  city  wants  sadly  a  good  hall  for  lectures  and 
concerts,  and  a  museum  of  curiosities  and  art.  The 
wealthy  citizens  show  a  good  deal  of  taste  for  art, 
however.  I  have  just  returned  from  a  visit  to  the 
house  of  Judge  Crocker,  who,  at  a  time  of  life 
when  most  large  capitalists  hereabouts  are  utterly 
buried  and  absorbed  in  gigantic  enterprises  and 
splendid  speculations,  treated  himself  and  family  to 
a  long  stay  in  Europe,  threw  care  to  the  winds, 
revelled  in  the  beautiful,  and  bought  pictures  right 
and  left.  He  has  brought  home  a  large  collection, 
for  which  he  is  now  building  a  fme  gallery. 

Chico,  March  7. 
I  reached  here  last  evening,  so  late  that  I 
could  see  but  little  of  the  town  ;  but  this  morn- 
ing I  find  myself  amid  the  loveliest  and  most  pic- 
turesque scenery  I  have  seen  since  I  first  came 
into  the  State.     Indeed,  I   believe   this   portion  of 


MELA'NCHOLY   MARYSVILLE.  23I 

the  great  valley  of  the  Sacramento  is  called  "  The 
Paradise  of  California." 

'Marysville,  in  which  for  my  sins  of  extravagant 
laudation  of  this  country,  perhaps,  I  spent  a  dis- 
mal, drizzling,  lonely  day,  is  a  town  of  considerable 
importance,  and  has  been  in  times  past  even  more 
busy  and  prosperous.  I  should  judge  there  was 
plenty  of  money  there  yet,  from  the  number  of  cit- 
izens, who  can  afford  to  live  without  labor  or 
any  apparent  business,  whom  we  observed  lounging 
about  street-corners,  or  taking  their  otium  cum 
dignitate,  if  nothing  stronger,  in  the  bar-room  of 
the  hotel.  Yet,  apart  from  these  elegant  idlers 
and  "  bloated  aristocrats,"  I  suppose  there  may  be 
a  hard-working  class  of  merchants  and  professional 
men,  excellent  people  in  their  way ;  and  I  doubt 
not  that  Marysville  is  the  dearest  and  most  desir- 
able spot  on  earth  to  all  the  inhabitants  thereof 
I  have  one  pleasant  association  with  the  place.  I 
met  there  one  friend,  —  a  lovely,  sympathetic  Bos- 
ton woman,  who  brought  to  see  me  a  beautiful 
little  girl  to  whom  she  had  given  my  name. 

Here  I  am,  resting  for  a  few  days  on  the   mag- 
nificent ranch  of  General .  Bidwell,  a   distinguished 


232 


CALIFORNIA. 


Californian,  and  one  much  respected,  though  he 
has  been  a  member  of  Congress.  He  Hves  here  a 
life  busy,  but  tranquil,  in  authority  almost  feudal, 
in  enjoyment  almost  Arcadian,  on  an  estate  of 
twenty  thousand  acres,  comprising  some  of  the  fin- 
est wheat  and  fruit  growing  and  pasture  land  in 
the  State.  The  pleasant  town  of  Chico,  built  on 
land  which  was  once  a  part  of  this  vast  ranch,  is 
named  from  a  creek,  the  loveliest  stream  I  have 
found  in  California.  This  runs  the  General's  flour- 
mills,  supplies  all  his  irrigating  ditches,  and  flows 
through  his  grounds.  From  the  tower  of  his  beau- 
tiful house,  and  even  from  my  chamber  windows,  I 
can  see  far  down  the  enchanting  valley,  on  two 
sides,  mountains  lovely  and  grand  ;  the  Marysville 
Buttes,  the  Coast  Range,  and  the  mighty  Sierras 
blue  in  the  distance,  and  wearing  the  same  night- 
caps of  snow  they  wore  in  the  dark  ages.  Around 
the  house  are  flowers,  of  course,  and  shrubs  and 
trees  just  putting  out  their  foliage,  and  a  great 
variety  of  evergreens.  Among  them  are  the  grace- 
ful Australian  gum-tree,  the  Chinese  camphor,  and 
the  pepper  tree.  On  one  side  of  the  house  there 
is  an   almond  orchard  in  full  bloom,  looking  like  a 


AN    ARCADIAN    PICTURE.  233 


snow  blockade.  As  I  step  out  on  the  wide  piazza, 
which  almost  surrounds  the  house,  the  serene,  sur- 
passing beauty  of  the  landscape  takes  my  heart. 
The  air  is  filled  and  thrilled  with  the  songs  of 
birds,  —  the  robin,  the  thrush,  the  bluebird,  and  the 
incomparable  meadow-lark,  —  and  pulsates  with  the 
low,  sweet  gurgle  of  the  stream,  running  crystal 
clear  over  shining  pebbles.  The  whole  landscape 
is  peculiarly  Italian  in  its  character,  and  yester- 
day, at  sunset,  I  saw  a  group  of  picturesquely 
dressed  women  coming  from  the  mill.  Large  and 
straight,  and  free  in  their  movements,  they  reminded 
me  at  once  of  Italian  peasant  women.  Yet  they 
are  native  Indians,  commonly  called  Diggers.  They 
are  employed  in  the  mill,  and  work  well.  They 
live  in  a  little  village,  or  ranckeria,  on  the  estate. 
General  Bidwell  gladly  employs  all,  both  men  and 
women,  who  are  able  and  willing  to  work,  and  sup- 
ports the  old  and  infirm  —  some  sixty  of  them  — 
who  were  on  the  land  when  he  came  here.  This 
morning  we  drove  over  a  portion  of  the  ranch, 
following,  for  the  most  part,  a  charming  private 
road  along  the  Chico.  We  passed  immense  fields 
of  wheat,   and   a  great    meadow   of   the   alfalfa,  or 


234  CALIFORNIA. 


Chilian  clover,  which  looked  like  a  bright  green 
sea,  surging  in  the  fresh  morning  wind.  This  clover, 
I  am  told,  produces  three  bounteous  crops  a  year, 
without  irrigation,  never  losing  its  peculiar  vivid 
green  ;  then,  added  to  its  other  merits,  it  is  sweet- 
scented.  We  drove  over  a  rolling  plain,  starred 
with  miniature  daisies,  dotted  with  buttercups  and 
tiny  blue  flowers,  strange  to  me,  but  something 
like  our  housatonias.  But  the  flowers  up  here  have 
not  come  out  as  they  have  down  on  the  coast. 
Coming  from  Belmont,  last  week,  I  saw  hosts  of 
harebells  and  patches  of  wild  iris,  that  looked  as 
though  the  sky  had  come  down  in  pieces  ;  while 
all  along  the  side  of  the  road  ran  the  yellow  Cali- 
fornia poppies,  like  a  procession  of  fairy  Orange- 
men. The  grand  floral  spring  flood  is  rising  all 
over  the  State.  Soon  it  will  cover  our  feet,  it 
will  rise  to  our  knees,  it  will  touch  our  saddle- 
girths,  and  all  the  land  will  be  drowned  in  bloom 
and  fragrance. 

I  am  sorry  I  cannot  see  this  charming  Chico 
region  in  its  full  glory  of  blossom  and  foliage ; 
that  I  must  leave  before  the  trees.  I  want  to  be- 
hold these  grand  oaks  in  all  their  summer  bravery. 


CHICO   VEGETATION.  235 

Just  now,  all  the  greenery  about  them  is  the  fatal 
garniture  of  the  mistletoe,  —  that  beautiful,  inso- 
lent parasite,  that  seems  to  have  come  sailing 
through  the  air,  out  of  the  unknown,  and  boarded 
the  tree  of  its  choice,  and  flung  out  its  pirate  ban- 
ner from  the  topmost  branches.  Many  of  these 
trees  are  burdened  with  oak-balls,  —  a  black  and 
ghastly  fruitage  like  unto  baked  "apples  of  Sodom." 
They  are  all  the  tenements  and  nurseries  of  para- 
sitic insects,  and  are  formed  from  the  sap,  the  life 
of  the  tree  going  out  in  these  ugly  excrescences. 
When  the  oak  is  stung,  even  to  death,  it  sheds 
tears  of  sweet  forgiveness,  drops  on  the  earth  a 
white  sugary  substance,  a  sort  of  manna,  which 
these  wild  Children  of  Israel,  the  Diggers,  gather 
up  in  baskets,  and  eat  almost  as  eagerly  as  they 
devour  a  grasshopper  cake  or  an  angle-worm  stew. 
On  our  drive  we  saw  away  toward  the  mountains 
an  indistinct,  white,  moving  mass,  which  looked  as 
though  the  fleecy  clouds  had  settled  on  the  plain. 
It  was  our  host's  little  flock  of  five  thousand  sheep 
and  fifteen  hundred  lambs.  The  stock  I  have  not 
yet  seen,  but  I  suppose  it  is  in  keeping  with  the 
other  belongings  of  this  noble  ranch. 


236  CALIFORNIA. 


General  Bidwell  has  been  on  his  land  most 
of  the  time  for  thirty  years.  He  has  given 
much  thought  and  study,  as  well  as  labor,  to  its 
cultivation ;  for  not  even  in  bounteous  California 
can  such  agricultural  results  be  reached  without 
good,  earnest,  hard  work,  intelligent  observation, 
and  watchful  care.  "  While  the  husbandman 
sleeps,"  the  Devil  is  ready  to  sow  tares  here,  as 
elsewhere,  and  the  way  the  pesky  things  grow 
in  this  region  would  have  astonished  the  ranch- 
men "  down  in  Judee."  I  could  tell  some  stu- 
pendous stories  of  the  productiveness  of  grain- 
fields,  orchards,  and  vineyards  on  this  ranch, 
but  will  forbear  for  fear  I  lose  my  reputation 
for  veracity,  —  what  may  be  left  of  it,  after  my 
reports  from  Colorado.  All  the  "small  fruits"  grow 
here  in  great  profusion  and  excellence.  Among 
these  must  by  no  means  be  classed  the  cherries, 
—  pride  of  the  ranch  !  He  is  set  down  as  a 
greedy  fellow,  an  unmannerly  knave,  who  does 
not  "make  two  bites  of  a  cherry."  All  branch- 
es of  the  melon  family  flourish  here  immensely : 
in  fact,  all  fruits  not  actually  tropical,  —  pears, 
peaches,    apricots,    nectarines,    quinces,    apples,   the 


A   GRAND   RANCH.  237 

fig  and  the  pomegranate,  the  pomme  d'amour, 
and  the  pomme  de  chou,  and  the  pomme  de  terre ; 
and  the  best  of  it  is,  that  no  pestilent  insect, 
unless  it  be  a  thieving  Digger  boy  now  and 
then,  ever  attacks  any  sort  of  fruit  in  this  re- 
gion. Almonds  are  grown  here  of  superior 
quality,  especially  the  soft-shelled ;  also  excellent 
English  and  black  walnuts  and  olives.  His 
fine  grapes  General  Bidwell  uses  or  sends  to 
market  in  their  natural,  innocent  form,  being  con- 
scientiously opposed  to  the  manufacture  of  wine 
and  brandy. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  describing  this 
ranch,  because  it  is,  on  the  whole,  the  finest  I 
have  yet  seen.  Yet  General  Bidwell  speaks  of 
it  habitually  as  a  place  of  fine  "  capabilities." 
He  has  a  thousand  plans,  partly  originated  by 
his  accomplished  wife,  for  improving  it,  in  every 
direction  and  department.  When  they  finish  their 
great  and   delightful   task,  may  I  be  here   to   see ! 

Sacramento,  March  26. 
I   have   a  new  sensation  to   chronicle    to-day,  — 
an   event  which    I    hope   will    remain    among    the 


238  CALIFORNIA. 


experiences  of  my  life,  alone,  apart,  unique.  One 
of  the  kind  will  do.  Early  this  Tuesday  morn- 
ing we  had  an  earthquake,  —  the  most  severe 
earthquake  ever  known  in  Sacramento,  which,  in- 
deed, has  hitherto  been  singularly  exempt  from 
such  unwelcome  visitations.  It  occurred  —  that  is, 
the  great  shock  —  at  twenty  minutes  past  two, 
and  then  the  clock  stopped.  It  was  late  when 
I  went  to  bed  last  night.  I  was  tired  and  weak 
from  recent  illness,  yet  I  could  not  sleep  for  a 
long  time.  I  fancied  the  air  was  heavy  and 
sultry.  With  a  window  wide  open  in  my  large 
chamber,  I  still  had  a  strange  feeling  of  op- 
pression and  apprehension,  though  all  without 
was  profoundly  quiet,  —  a  dead  stillness.  After 
long  tossing  and  weary  waiting,  I  slept,  it  seemed 
but  a  little  while.  I  dreamed  I  was  at  sea, 
and  that  the  ship  suddenly  struck  upon  a  rock, 
and  shuddered  and  shivered  and  creaked  fearful- 
ly. I  woke  to  feel  the  rocking,  straining  motion 
of  the  ship,  and  the  roar  of  the  winds  and 
waves.  I  had  actually  some  moments  of  vague 
distress  and  terror  before  I  realized  where  I  was, 
and  what  was   the   strange   tumult   and  shock,  and 


EARTHQUAKE   TERRORS.  239 

knew  that  the  fearful  power  that  was  shaking 
the  great  solid  house,  and  rattling  the  windows, 
and  swinging  the  chandeliers  about  me,  was  nei- 
ther of  the  air  nor  sea ;  that  the  dull,  appall- 
ing roar  was  neither  the  sound  of  a  mighty, 
rushing  wind,  nor  the  voice  of  many  waters,  — 
though  it  was  like  to  them  both ;  nor  could  it 
be  taken  for  thunder,  or  the  rumble  of  cars. 
It  was  something  peculiar,  strange,  terribly  un- 
familiar, yet  impossible  to  be  mistaken,  —  a  name- 
less horror  of  sound,  muffled,  portentous,  and 
all-pervading.  It  did  not  seem  to  me  to  belong 
to  the  earthquake.  It  seemed  in  the  air,  not 
under  the  ground ;  it  was  not  the  growl  of  im- 
prisoned thunder,  but  the  ominous,  defiant  roar 
of  some  unknown  element  of  death  and  de- 
struction, "flying  all  abroad."  It  was  more  terri- 
ble to  me  than  the  rocking  and  trembling  all 
about  me. 

What  moments  were  those  for  swift,  solemn, 
yearning  thoughts  !  Before  I  rose  from  the  bed, 
which  shook  and  seemed  to  surge  under  me,  I 
seemed  to  pass  in  spirit  over  thousands  of  miles, 
and    to    stand    by   the    bedside    of    my   dear    ones, 


24©  CALIFORNIA. 


sleeping  in  peace,  in  security.  Something  gave 
me  strength,  and  I  rose  quietly,  went  to  a  win- 
dow and  looked  out,  expecting  to  see  the  ground 
heaving  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  people 
running  frantically  from  falling  houses.  But  all 
seemed  strangely  still,  except  the  swaying  trees. 
Nothing  was  disturbed,  and  few  people  were  then 
in  the  streets.  It  almost  looked  as  though  the 
earthquake  were  confined  to  this  house,  —  con- 
tracted for,  by  the  rampant  enemies  of  the  Cen- 
tral Pacific  and  its  president.  The  moon  shone 
through  a  mist  with  a  peculiarly  cold,  almost 
ghastly  light.  This  effect,  I  heard  afterward,  was 
noticed  by  others.  I  suppose  it  had  no  connec- 
tion with  the  earthquake,  yet  it  increased  the 
fantastic  terror  of  the  scene.  My  dear  hostess 
came  to  me  to  try  to  give  me  aid,  or  rather 
comfort ;  but  as  the  shocks  came  in  swift  succes- 
sion, running  into  each  other,  she  was  herself 
almost  overwhelmed  with  terror  and  apprehen- 
sion. Yet  after  her  tender,  unselfish  way,  she 
seemed  to  sufier  most  from  fear  for  the  fate  of 
friends  in  San  Francisco.  "  If  it  is  so  severe 
here,   it    must    be    terrible    there"    she    said ;    and 


FINAL    PULSATIONS.  24I 

my  own  distress  was  very  great  for  many  dear 
friends  I  pictured  flying  from  their  falling  houses, 
and  wandering  through  the  streets.  But,  thank 
Heaven,  they  escaped  the  awful  visitation  this  time, 
almost  entirely.  We  seem  to  have  taken  the  full 
brunt  of  it.  We  hear  to-day  that  many  people 
rushed  from  their  beds  into  the  streets  and  re- 
mained till  the  shocks  were  all  past.  My  host, 
Governor  Stanford,  was  perfectly  calm,  and  his 
courage  proved  contagious.  When  he  told  me 
that  it  was  not,  after  all,  a  first-class  earthquake, 
I  believed  and  trembled,  respecting  his  long  Pa- 
cific coast  experience,  and  not  being  a  judge  of 
earthquakes  myself  When  he  assured  me  that 
the  worst  was  over,  I  went  quietly  to  bed,  and 
there  remained  as  quiet  as  my  bed  would  allow 
me  to  be.  The  shocks  became  much  less  vio- 
lent and  frequent,  and  at  last  were  so  gentle, 
that,  worn  out  by  strange  emotions,  and  faint 
with  a  sort  of  sea -sickness,  I  said  to  the  dear 
old  earth  I  never  had  feared  before,  "  Rock  me 
to  sleep,  mother,"  —  and  she  did  it.  At  about 
six  o'clock  I  was  wakened  by  a  smart  shock, 
the  last  severe  one  we  have  had.  During  the 
II  p 


242  CALIFORNIA. 


day  we  have  had  several  starts  and  trembleme7its, 
so  slight  that  it  is  probable  we  should  not  have 
noticed  them  had  we  not  been  on  the  qiii-vive. 
We  are  beginning  to  take  some  credit  to  our- 
selves for  good  behavior,  as  we  hear  of  many  in 
all  parts  of  the  city  who  were  utterly  panic- 
stricken,  rushing  into  the  streets  in  their  night- 
clothes,  shrieking  and  sobbing  and  praying,  and 
doing  other  strange  and  unusual  things.  One 
frantic  young  man,  very  airily  clad,  leaped  out 
of  a  third -story  back  window  of  a  hotel.  He 
alighted  on  the  roof  of  an  old  shed,  which  gave 
way,  and  let  him  gently  down  into  a  spring 
wagon.  So  he  escaped  with  his  life,  but  has, 
they  say,  gone  into  retirement  and  a  course  of 
vinegar  and  brown  paper.  We  felt  assured  that 
we  were  as  safe  where  we  were  as  we  could  be 
outside,   and   not   a   soul   left   the   house. 

Buckle,  I  believe,  says  that  there  is  nothing 
that  so  takes  hold  on  the  imagination  as  an 
earthquake ;  and  very  likely  my  imagination  exag- 
gerated the  peril,  the  heaving,  the  roaring,  as  I 
afterward  found  it  did  the  duration  of  the  shocks. 
All  the  accounts  I  had  ever  heard  or  read  of  earth- 


THOUGHTS    FROM    THE    DEPTHS.  243 


quakes  came  back  to  me,  —  the  dreadful  stories 
of  the  destruction  of  Catania  and  Lisbon  in  the 
old  school-books,  with  their  more  dreadful  pic- 
tures, and  the  later  horrors  of  South  American 
convulsions.  There  is  in  an  earthquake  all  the 
elements  of  panic,  of  wild,  mad  terror,  especial- 
ly in  its  utter  unexpectedness  and  uncertainty. 
Nothing  in  nature  gives  you  warning  that  it 
is  coming,  nothing  assurance  that  it  is  past. 
You  cannot  know  during  the  first  great  shock 
whether  it  is  subsiding  or  culminating.  Still,  we 
were  more  solemnized  than  terrified,  at  least  af- 
ter the  bewildered  waking  out  of  sleep,  and  the 
first  surprise  and  alarm.  There  was  something  so 
mysterious,  so  stupendous,  so  almost  grand  in  that 
shudder  of  the  solid  globe,  —  that  nightmare  of 
the  sleeping  earth,  moaning  and  tossing  under  the 
still,  bright  heavens  !  We  were  hushed  and  hum- 
bled ;  with  a  sense  of  the  most  utter  helpless- 
ness, we  could  but  try  to  look  beyond  Nature  to 
Nature's  God,  silently  to  appeal  from  her  piti- 
lessness  to  His  pity,  from  her  restlessness  to  His 
rest. 

Now,  in  the  brave  light   of  day,  we   feel   brave, 


244  CALIFORNIA. 


and  wonder  we  were  so  awed  and  agitated,  and 
laugh  at  stories  of  wild  excitement  and  demor- 
alization in  the  hotels  down -town  ;  yet  it  is 
strange  how  every  little  new  tremor  of  the  smil- 
ing earth  gives  one  a  sort  of  sickening  electric 
shock,  and  seems  in  an  instant  to  resolve  one's 
heart   into   jelly. 

This  morning,  to  brighten  our  thoughts  and 
steady  our  nerves,  we  drove  out  to  the  Park,  and 
went  like  the  wind  around  the  track,  and  saw  the 
great  Stanford  trotting  horse  go  like  a  whirlwind 
over. ground  which  only  six  hours  before,  seen  by 
the  pale  moonlight,  would  have  seemed  scarcely 
more  substantial  than  the  canvas  waves  of  a  the- 
atrical sea. 

Governor  Stanford  drove  a  pair  of  sorrels,  very 
fast  and  very  beautiful,  and  there  were  a  number 
of  fine  horses  on  the  track.  But  the  observed  of 
all  observers  was  Charley,  or  Occident,  who  was 
taking  his  constitutional.  He  is  now  in  splendid 
condition,  and  seems  to  strike  fire  from  the  ground, 
and  to  be  charged  with  it,  warming  up  grandly 
with  every  round. 

O,  how  pleasant  and  beautiful  seemed  the  earth, 


AFTER    THE    STORM.  245 


in  its  fresh  spring  attire!  how  quiet,  and  inno- 
cent and  reliable!  All  along  our  way,  going  and 
returning,  we  breathed  in  the  intoxicating  sweet- 
ness of  violets  and  roses  and  lilacs,  and  the  more 
delicate  fragrance  of  fruit-tree  blossoms  and  tender 
young  leaves.  We  had  radiant  sunshine  instead  of 
the  misty  moonlight,  associated  with  tumult  and 
terror;  the  song  of  birds  in  lieu  of  that  sullen 
roar  more  appaUing  than  the  rush  of  a  tornado  or 
the  thunder  of  surf;  in  short,  we  had  brightness 
and  peace  instead  of  mystery  and  fear.  It  was 
paradise  regained. 

Of  course,  we  and  our  visitors  talk  earthquake 
continually.  One  friend,  who  had  experienced  much 
harder  shocks,  says  he  should  not  have  left  his  bed 
last  night  if  it  had  not  gone  down  under  him. 
Another  friend  has  just  been  telling  me  a  curious 
earthquake  story :  A  gentleman  and  his  wife  came 
to  San  Francisco  in  the  fall  of  1864,  intending  to 
make  California  their  home.  On  the  very  night 
after  their  arrival  there  occurred  a  frightful  earth- 
quake, which  so  shocked  them  that  they  took  the 
very  next  steamer  and  returned  to  the  Atlantic 
coast.     After  four  years  they  were  so  far  recovered 


246  CALIFORNIA. 


from  their  fright  that  they  concluded  to  try  it 
again.  They  came  this  time  determined  to  stay. 
But,  on  their  very  first  night  in  San  Francisco,  the 
earthquake  found  them  out.  It  was  the  great  earth- 
quake of  October,  i858,  that  finally  utterly  routed 
them.  They  went  home  by  the  first  train.  They 
had  seen  little  in  their  two  visits  to  California,  but 
they  had  felt  unutterable  things. 

I  hear  with  great  regret  that  pleasant  Chico 
has  suffered  some  damage,  and  that  the  beautiful 
house  in  which  I  was  most  hospitably  entertained 
has  been  seriously  injured.  I  thank  God  that  no 
lives  have  been  lost ;  and,  on  the  whole,  I  am  not 
sorry  to  have  had  the  experience.  I  shall  never 
now,  like  the  boy  in  the  quaint  old  German  story, 
be  discontented  and  unhappy  because  I  do  not 
■'•understand  what  it  is  to  shudder." 

San  Francisco,  May  4. 
Since  the  coming  in  of  fine,  clear  weather,  since 
the  real  royal  entry  of  spring,  the  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  study  or  writing,  both  without  and  within, 
have  seemed  quite  insurmountable.  These  glorious 
days  have  rolled  in  upon  me  in  a  perfectly  whelm- 


THE    DREAM    OF    A    MAD    FLORIST.  247 

ing  tide  of  fragrant  and  golden  enticements, 
floating  me  helplessly  out  into  the  lovely  country, 
up  and  down  the  great  highways,  and  over  the 
bright  waters,  —  to  Sacramento,  to  Belmont,  to 
Oakland  and  Brooklyn  and  Sancelito.  Much  of 
the  time  I  have  simply  been  flying  like  a  shuttle- 
cock back  and  forth  across  the  bay.  I  had  a 
pass,  and  thought  I  must  work  it  out. 

The  grand  California  flower-show  is  at  its  height. 
Anything  more  gorgeously  beautiful  than  the  dis- 
play in  meadows  and  wild  pasture  lands,  on  hill- 
side and  river-side,  it  were  impossible  for  any  one 
but  a  mad  florist  to  imagine.  Along  the  railroads 
on  either  hand  runs  continuously  the  rich,  radiant 
bloom.  Your  sight  becomes  pained,  your  very  brain 
bewildered,  by  watching  the  galloping  rainbow. 

There  are  great  fields  in  which  flowers  of  many 
sorts  are  mingled  in  a  perfect  carnival  of  color ; 
then  come  exclusive  family  gatherings,  where  the 
blues,  the  crimsons,  or  the  purples  have  it  all 
their  own  way  ;  and  every  now  and  then  you  come 
upon  great  tracts,  resplendent  with  that  most  royally 
gorgeous  of  all  wild  flowers,  the  yellow  or  orange 
poppy,   which   an   old    Russian   bear   of  a   botanist 


248  CALIFORNIA. 


has  Stretched  on  the  rack  of  the  name  Eschscholtzia, 
but  which  long  ago  some  poetic  Spaniard,  not  a 
"  flower-sharp,"  and  so  not  above  taking  a  hint 
from  nature,  christened  El-copo-d'oro.  Every  such 
tract  where  the  sumptuous  blossoms  stand  thick 
reminds  one  of  the  "  field  of  the  cloth  of  gold." 
They  are  peculiarly  joyous-looking  flowers,  massed 
together,  dancing  and  hobnobbing,  and  lifting  their 
golden  goblets  to  be  filled  by  the  morning  sun. 
At  night,  emptied  of  that  aureate  air,  the  dainty 
cups  close  up,  and  the  tipsy  revellers  go  to  sleep. 
Cool  libations  of  watery  moonshine  are  not  to  their 
taste. 

With  the  first  dawn  of  spring  I  bravely  under- 
took to  gather  and  preserve  specimens  of  every 
sort  of  wild  flower  in  its  season  ;  but  I  soon  found 
it  was  a  losing  game  for  me.  As  I  put  down  my 
specimens  in  my  little  herbarium,  Nature  would 
"  see "  me  and  "  go "  me  five,  ten,  twenty,  fifty 
"  better,"  and,  at  last,  "  could  give  me  a  hundred, 
and  beat  me  every  time." 

Even  Marysville  and  Stockton  look  bright, 
festive,  and  hospitable,  with  their  spring  suits  on. 
I  begin  to  repent  me   that   I    suffered    vile    March 


THE    DELIGHTS    OF    OAKLAND.  249 

weather  and  the  uncommon  wickedness  of  com- 
mon councilmen  to  color  too  darkly  my  impres- 
sions of  those  two  boroughs.  Peace  be  with  them  ! 
Marysville,  I  am  told,  has  some  delightful  society, 
and  Stockton  is  only  to  be  avoided  by  lecturers 
and  lunatics.  They  fine  the  former  and  confine 
the  latter. 

At  my  last  visit,  since  the  earthquake,  I  found 
Sacramento  with  her  feet  clean  out  of  the  mud, 
and  sitting  among  the  roses.  It  is  really  a  beauti- 
ful season  there  now,  and  a  peaceful  and  virtuous. 
The  Legislature  has  adjourned. 

I  heard  while  there  another  story  of  the  earth- 
quake. A  lodger  at  one  of  the  hotels,  when  awa- 
kened on  that  memorable  night,  supposed  that 
some  mischievous  or  burglarious  individual  was 
heaving  up  his  bed.  Leaning  over  its  edge  and 
holding  on  with  difficulty,  he  shouted,  "Come  out 
of  there,  you  son  of  a  gun  !  " 

The  idea  of  calling  an  earthquake  a  "  son  of  a 
gun"  struck  me  as  unspeakably  droll. 

Oakland,   the   city   over   the   bay,   that   ought  to 
have   been    San   Francisco,  a  heavenly  spot,  where 
the  sand  and  the  wind  trouble  not,  and  earthquakes 
II* 


250  CALIFORNIA, 


do  not  break  through  and  shake,  as  here,  is  beau- 
tiful at  all  times  and  seasons,  but  is  now  enchanting. 
Such  roses  as  grow  there  in  marvellous  variety  and 
profusion  are  a  foretaste  of  paradise.  By  the  way, 
I  do  not  believe  that  any  writer  has  done  full  jus- 
tice to  the  roses  of  California  in  their  loveliness, 
their  bounteousness,  their  absolute  perfection.  They 
are  the  tenderest,  the  most  aerial  hues,  the  most 
transporting  tints,  of  sunrise  and  sunset  born  again 
in  bloom.  Next  to  the  roses  in  beauty  are,  to  me, 
the  scarlet  geraniums,  growing  in  great  clumps  and 
long  hedges,  blazing  up  out  of  the  green,  like  flow- 
ering flame.  Then  there  is  the  calla  lily,  fresh  and 
cool  and  pure,  growing  also  in  wonderful  profusion. 
In  the  decoration  of  one  San  Francisco  church  for 
Easter  service  more  than  a  thousand  lilies  of  this 
regal  family  were  immolated. 

Sancelito  is  the  most  poetically  and  perennially 
attractive  place  of  resort  on  the  bay.  Here  grow 
wonderful  ferns,  here  are  cliffs  and  dells,  and  lovely 
little  coves,  and  shadowy  glens,  and  charming  hid- 
den brooks. 

I  really  cannot  see  how  this  coast  can  ever  make 
a  great  record  in  scientific   discoveries  and  attain- 


INTELLECTUAL    PROBABILITIES.  251 

ments,  and  the  loftier  walks  of  literature  ;  can  ever 
raise  great  students,  authors,  and  artists  of  its  own. 
Leaving  out  of  consideration  the  fast  and  furious 
rate  of  business  enterprise,  and  the  maelstrom-like 
force  of  the  spirit  of  speculation,  of  gambling,  on 
a  mighty,  magnificent  sweep,  I  cannot  see  how,  in 
a  country  so  enticingly  picturesque,  where  three 
hundred  days  out  of  every  year  invite  you  forth 
into  the  open  air  with  bright  beguilements  and 
soft  blandishments,  any  considerable  number  of 
sensible,  healthy  men  and  women  can  ever  be 
brought  to  buckle  down  to  study  of  the  hardest, 
most  persistent  sort ;  to  "  poring  over  miserable 
books "  ;  to  brooding  over  theories  and  incubating 
inventions.  California  is  not  wanting  in  admirable 
educational  enterprises,  originated  and  engineered 
by  able  men  and  fine  scholars ;  and  there  is  any 
amount  of  a  certain  sort  of  brain  stimulus  in  the 
atmosphere.  She  will  always  produce  brilliant  men 
and  women  of  society,  wits,  and  ready  speakers  ; 
but  I  do  not  think  she  will  ever  be  the  rival  of 
bleak  little  Massachusetts  or  stony  old  Connec- 
ticut in  thorough  culture,  in  the  production  of 
classical   scholars,   great    jurists,   theologians,   histo- 


252  CALIFORNIA, 


rians,   and   reformers.      The   conditions   of    life   are 
too    easy.     East   winds,    snows,   and   rocks   are   the 
,     grim    allies    of    serious    thought    and    plodding   re- 
search, of  tough  brains  and  strong  wills. 

There  are  great  hopes  entertained  of  the  State 
University,  now  at  Oakland,  but  to  be,  when  its 
new  buildings  are  completed,  at  Berkley,  some  four 
miles  away,  and  in  full  sight  of  the  Golden  Gate. 
It  is  already  a  noble  institution,  with  an  admirable 
faculty.  The  Mills  Seminary,  a  very  large  school 
for  young  ladies,  admirably  situated,  hid  away  in  a 
charming  nook  under  the  beautiful  Brooklyn  hills, 
is  certainly  something  for  California  to  be  proud 
of  I  have  found  it  a  delightful  place  to  visit. 
The  handsome,  neat,  bright,  and  every  way  com- 
fortable house  overflows  with  happy  young  life. 
In  its  atmosphere,  as  in  a  magic  bath,  I  seemed 
for  the  time  to  renew  my  own  youth,  and  to  dwell 
again  in  the  school-girls'  Arcadia.  The  bright, 
blooming,  eager,  girlish  faces  I  have  seen  there  I 
shall  long  remember  with  tender  interest.  "  O 
young  and  joyous  creatures ! "  shall  I  look  upon 
you  never  again  .'' 

Oakland  society   is   more   literary  and  artistic  in 


SCRAPS    OF    TRAVEL.  253 


its  tone  than  that  of  any  other  Pacific  coast  town. 
Still,  I  am  told  young  Oakland  dances  and  skates 
more  than  it  studies  or  sketches.  Every  great  en- 
tertainment winds  up  with  a  ball,  every  little  one 
with  a  "  hop,"  —  unless  it  be  a  christening  or  a  com- 
munion service.  It  is  a  merry  people,  and  a  kindly 
and  a  generous,  responding  liberally  to  every  ap- 
peal of  benevolence  and  good-fellowship.  Such  a 
succession  of  "  benefits,"  charitable  and  compliment- 
ary, as  we  have  had  in  this  vicinity  during  the  last 
two  months,  I  have  never  known.  Everybody  that 
is  deserving  or  unfortunate  has  a  chance,  sooner 
or  later. 

Of  the  smaller  towns  I  have  visited,  I  think 
pleasant  Chico  the  most  intellectually  inclined.  I 
met  there  people  of  excellent  literary  taste.  I  must 
mention  the  postmaster  as  a  man  especially  fond 
of  letters.  He  kept  a  whole  package  of  mine  for 
nearly  two  days,  refusing  to  give  them  up  at  my 
frantic  call,  and  even  denying  that  the  documents 
were  in  his  possession.  I  was  told  that  this  affec- 
tionate clinging  to  his  mail-matter  is  an  aesthetic 
weakness  of  the  old  gentleman's.  By  the  way,  in 
this  same  village  I  fell  into  the  clutches  of  a  hack- 


254  CALIFORNIA. 


man,  who,  for  an  hour's  use  of  an  indifferent  old 
vehicle,  smelling  of  damp  strangers,  extorted  from 
me  no  less  than  eight  dollars  in  gold  and  silver 
coin  ;  and  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be 
a  good  idea  to  station  this  same  highwayman  at 
the  window  of  the  post-office  to  call  on  the  vener- 
able lover  of  letters  to  "  stand  and  deliver !  " 

At  Chico  I  met  with  a  very  interesting  woman, 
the  wife  of  General  Cosby  of  Kentucky,  during  our 
"  late  unpleasantness,"  in  the  Confederate  army, 
now  very  much  reconstructed  into  a  Butte  County 
California  ranchman.  Mrs.  Cosby,  since  living  a 
life  novel  in  its  new  cares  and  labors,  but  some- 
what lonely  and  monotonous,  has  developed  re-- 
markable  artistic  talent,  in  brighter  years  undreamed 
of  even  by  herself.  She  is  a  brave,  cheery,  ener- 
getic young  wife  and  mother,  full  of  freshness,  en- 
thusiasm, and  originality.  It  was  actually  by  join- 
ing in,  after  her  merry  fashion,  with  her  children's 
play  one  sunny  day  last  winter,  that  she  discovered 
her  talent  for  sculpture.  The  little  ones  were  man- 
ufacturing the  immemorial  mud-pie ;  she  took  up 
a  lump  of  adobe,  and  fashioned,  not  a  pie,  but  a 
pretty  little  head.     "  The  thing  grew  under  my  fin- 


ART    AND    LITERATURE.  255 

gers,"  she  said.  The  finer  touches  of  her  play- 
work  were  done  by  a  hair-pin.  She  did  not  know 
she  had  hit  on  Mr.  Gibson's  favorite  Httle  model- 
ling tool.  Finding  the  adobe  not  very  pliable,  and 
having  no  other  sort  of  clay  to  work  with,  —  not 
knowing  anything  of  the  first  processes  of  sculpt- 
ure, —  she  next  cut  an  ideal  head  from  a  large 
piece  of  chalk,  chiefly  with  an  old  pair  of  scissors. 
Next  she  purchased  a  block  of  marble,  and,  like  a 
small  female  Buonarotti,  grappled  at  once  with  the 
stone.  Without  a  word  of  instruction,  with  no  model 
or  drawing,  with  no  proper  sculptor's  implements, 
she  has  already  chiselled  a  small  ideal  figure  — 
"  Mignon,"  I  believe  she  calls  it  —  and  an  admi- 
rable portrait  bust.  I  have  shown  a  photograph 
of  the  latter  to  several  artists,  and  they  have  pro- 
nounced it,  under  the  circumstances,  a  wonderful 
production. 

The  literary  publications  of  San  Francisco  seem 
to  me,  for  the  most  part,  singularly  spirited  and 
readable.  We  all  know  what  the  Overland  is ; 
how  rich  in  original,  sparkling,  dashing,  and,  withal, 
poetic  contributors.  It  does  not  lose  hope  in  losing 
Harte ;  its  "  luck  "  did  not  all  belong  to  the  "  Roar- 


256  CALIFORNIA. 


ing  Camp "  ;  it  can  never  be  "  dead  broke "  while 
Ina  Coolbrith  and  Charles  Warren  Stoddard,  and 
Hannah  Neall,  and  Joaquin  Miller  remain  to  it. 

The  Alta  California,  a  pioneer  journal,  still  holds 
its  own,  and  is  an  agreeable  old  newsmonger,  when 
it  does  not  let  its  angry  passions  rise  against 
woman  suffrage,  or  render  railing  for  railing,  in 
a  naughty  way,  against  the  Central  Pacific.  Just 
iiow  it  is  n't  exactly  pleasant  reading  for  me,  be- 
cause of  the  hard  things  it  says  of  my  kind  friend 
Governor  Stanford,  a  gentleman  of  high  moral  char- 
acter, a  good  husband  and  father,  but  not  inordi- 
nately "  stuck  up  "  by  such  distinctions  ;  rich,  but 
not  otherwise  reprehensible  ;  fond  of  a  fine  horse, 
a  good  cigar,  and  his  wife's  relations ;  but  a  man 
and  a  brother  for  all  that. 

The  Bulletin  is  bright,  but  decorous ;  entertain- 
ing, but  elegant,  especially  in  its  literary  depart- 
ment, managed  by  an  able  editor  long  connected 
with  that  excellent  daily,  the  Utica  Herald.  Mr. 
Williams  is  a  journalist  of  rare  taste  and  cul- 
ture, and  helps  to  give  to  the  Bulletin  a  certain 
Boston  form  and  flavor  very  agreeable  to  New- 
Englanders. 


NEWSPAPERDOM.  257 

The  Chronicle  and  Call  are  wide-awake,  lively, 
and  chatty  morning  visitors.  The  Chronicle  is 
especially  enterprising  and  ambitious  in  the  inter- 
viewing and  reporting  line.  It  will  interview  any 
distinguished  visitor  short  of  an  earthquake, 
twenty-four  hours  before  his  arrival.  Its  reports 
of  the  snow-blockade  read  like  Abbott's  account 
of  Napoleon's  Russian  campaign,  and  its  great 
woodcut  of  the  Inyo  earthquake  was  even  more 
appalling  than  that  catastrophe ;  people  were 
known  to  run  out  of  their  houses  on  behold- 
ing it. 

Among  a  host  of  other  weeklies,  religious  and 
agricultural,  "  content  to  dwell  in  decencies  for- 
ever," there  is  the  famous  and  audacious  News- 
Letter,  —  half  jester  and  half  bandit.  It  has,  I 
hear,  lately  lost  its  wittiest  and  wickedest  editor. 
When  he  flung  dirt  there  was  usually  a  little 
gold-dust  mixed  with  it.  The  English  he  used 
was  terrible,  but  it  was  English,  —  a  pure  article 
of  venom. 

The  city  has  several  fine  libraries,  chief 
among  them  being  the  noble  Mercantile.  Though 
I     cannot    see    how    anybody    finds    any    time    to 

Q 


2S8  CALIFORNIA. 


read  real  books  here,  book  establishments  seem 
to  flourish.  Roman  has  a  beautiful  new  store  on 
Montgomery  Street,  and  Bancroft  Brothers  have 
a  magnificent  building  for  both  the  sale  and  the 
printing  of  books,  on  Market  Street.  I  was  sur- 
prised by  the  elegance,  extent,  and  completeness 
of  their  establishment.  This  house  does  not 
confine  itself  to  modern  publications.  It  shows 
some  veneration  for  the  past,  —  considerable  anti- 
quarian research.  I  found  on  its  shelves  several 
of  the  works  of  "G.  G."  They  take  them  down 
and  dust  them  carefully  about  once  a  year.  Oth- 
erwise they  are  not  disturbed. 

The  drama  flourishes  in  "  Frisco,"  and  the 
Gospel  is  not  so  much  at  a  discount  as  they 
who  believe  the  two  institutions  essentially  and 
eternally  inimical  to  each  other  would  naturally 
expect.  Theatrical  people,  if  they  behave  them- 
selves, are  held  to  be  as  good  as  stock-gamblers 
and  claim-jumpers  ;  and  yet  popular  preachers 
draw  exceedingly  well,  especially  when  they  hold 
forth  in  a  popular  place.  Dr.  A.  L.  Stone,  the 
eloquent  and  elegant  Congregational  clergyman, 
has,   all   through   the  season,  attracted  without  the 


THE    PULPIT.  259 


aid  of  a  band,  every  Sunday  evening,  large 
crowds  to  the  Skating  Rink,  —  the  righteous  sit- 
ting "in  the  quiet,"  decorous,  devotional,  and  se- 
cure, on  the  very  spot  where,  week-day  evenings, 
the   "wicked    stand    on    slippery  places." 

Dr.  Horatio  Stebbins,  the  prince  of  Unitarian 
sermonizers  to  my  mind,  brings  together  for  ev- 
ery discourse  a  large,  sympathetic  audience  of 
cultivated  and  thinking  people.  For  grandeur  of 
scope,  for  massiveness  of  construction,  richness 
and  power  of  language,  profound  philosophy  and 
broad  humanity,  I  have  never  known  the  equals 
of  the  magnificent  religious  essays  produced 
Sunday  after  Sunday  by  this  noble  successor  of 
Thomas  Starr  King.  I  shall  pass  out  most  re- 
luctantly from  the  large  circle  of  eager  hearts, 
kindling  souls,  and  receptive,  but  not  unquestion- 
ing minds  to  which  he  ministers,  —  first,  as  a 
man,  of  a  somewhat  rugged  and  unpliant  type, 
brave,  simple,  direct,  and  independent  ;  next, 
as  the  teacher,  deeply  learned  in  the  truths 
whereof  he  treats,  and  speaking  by  their  author- 
ity ;  and  lastly,  as  the  pastor  not  much  con- 
cerned  for   the    dignity    of    the    character,   not    at 


26o  CALIFORNIA. 


all  presuming  on  its  venerable  associations,  its 
sacred  privileges,  its  social  and  political  immuni- 
ties, evidently  believing  that  his  "  high  profession 
spiritual "  is  neither  above  nor  apart  from  ear- 
nest practical  life  and  Christian  citizenship. 

May  21. 
I  cannot  too  strongly  impress  upon  the  minds 
of  tourists  the  necessity  of  guarding  with  the 
utmost  vigilance  against  taking  a  San  Francisco 
spring  cold.  It  is,  of  all  known  catarrhs,  the 
most  obstinate,  persistent,  unconquerable,  implaca- 
ble. "  Physicians  are  in  vain,"  medicaments  pow- 
erless, mustard  draughts  and  cephalic  snuff,  hot 
baths  and  old  Bourbon,  inoperative  ;  it  will  run 
its  course,  fierce  and  furious,  to  the  end,  leaving 
you  as  suddenly,  perhaps,  as  it  came  ;  and  if  it 
does  not  take  you  off  with  it,  you  find  yourself 
very  little  the  worse  for  wear,  —  the  wear  and 
tear  of  a  cough  which  can  only  be  compared 
with  other  monstrous  California  products.  The 
air,  at  its  harshest,  is  so  pure  and  stimulating 
here,  that  you  keep  your  strength  and  spirit  and 
appetite   in    the    midst    of    quite    serious    indisposi- 


SAN     FRANCISCO     CLIMATE.  261 

tion.  You  feel  that  you  ought  to  give  up  and 
go  under,  but  somehow  you  don't.  There  is  no 
languor  in  the  atmosphere  ;  it  is  veined  with  a 
vital  electricity,  and  in  it  you  react  and  recu- 
perate from  any  ordinary  illness  with  marvellous 
rapidity.  But  it  is  far  better  not  to  be  ill  at  all, 
even  here ;  and  one  could,  I  am  convinced,  es- 
cape colds  by  remembering  that,  however  sunny 
and  brilliant  the  day  at  this  season,  the  biting 
northwest  wind  of  the  coast,  if  not  prowling 
and  howling  through  the  streets,  is,  like  the  ene- 
my of  the  dog  Diogenes,  always  waiting  "round 
the  corner."  The  only  safe  course  is  to  make  no 
change  in  one's  dress,  except  it  be  to  wear  even 
warmer  clothing  than  is  needed  in  the  mild, 
damp  winter.  Flannel  —  good,  genuine,  honest 
flannel  —  must  be  constantly  worn,  and  furs  are 
occasionally  needed.  But  for  all  its  bitter  winds 
and  sullen  fog  and  Winding  dust,  San  Francisco 
still  looks  pleasant  and  home -like  to  me  when- 
ever I  come  back  to  the  city,  after  a  little  ab- 
sence. Beneath  the  shifting  sands  I  feel  the 
abiding  rock ;  above  the  bluster  I  see  the  steady 
sunshine.     She   is   a  little  fickle   in   her   favor,  but 


262  CALIFORNIA. 


firm  in  her  friendship  ;  she  is  tempestuous  and 
narrow  in  her  local  prejudices  and  animosities, 
but   genial   and   broad   in   her   hospitalities. 

I  have  just  returned  from  what  should  have 
been  a  pleasure  trip,  but  which  was  somewhat 
compulsory,  on  account  of  one  of  those  fearful 
coughs  I  have  attempted  to  describe,  and  which 
here  would  not  depart  from  me.  I  went  with  a 
single,  dear  travelling  companion,  first  to  the 
White  Sulphur  Springs,  the  most  fashionable 
watering-place  on  the  coast.  Our  route  was  by 
steamer  to  Vallejo,  thence  by  rail  to  St.  Helena, 
where  we  took  stage  for  the  Springs.  The  day 
was  beautiful,  almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  and 
the  little  voyage  up  the  noble  bay  altogether 
delightful.  I  never  weary  of  looking  at  the  ever- 
varying  shores  of  this  most  picturesque  piece  of 
water,  and  at  the  grand  heights  and  soft  curves 
of  the  Coast  Range.  Mounts  Tamalpais  and  Di- 
abolo  are  kingly  old  fellows,  and  many  of  the 
hills  are  beautiful  exceedingly,  though  now  they 
have  almost  lost  their  lovely  green  tints  and  are 
fast  assuming  the  dull,  tawny  hue  which  they 
wore  when  I  first  beheld  them  in  October.     These 


BRET     HARTE.  263 


changes  about  San  Francisco  are  marvellously  in- 
dicated by  Bret  Harte  in  his  exquisite  legend, 
"  Concepcion  de  Arguello "  in  the  May  "  Atlan- 
tic." The  longer  I  remain  here,  the  more  I  see 
that  no  writer,  no  painter  even,  has  ever  given 
the  local  coloring  of  these  California  scenes  like 
Bret  Harte.  This  strange,  familiar,  new,  old,  mo- 
notonously restless  Californian  life  must  have  ab- 
sorbed, if  it  did  not  satisfy  him.  His  genius 
was  thoroughly  immersed  in  it,  even  if  it  went 
down  like  an  unwilling  diver,  and  had  little  de- 
light in  the  rough  pearls  it  brought  to  the  sur- 
face. The  more  I  see  of  California  scenery,  life, 
and  character,  the  more  vividly  I  am  impressed 
with  Mr.  Harte's  power  in  reproducing  them  all, 
to  the  very  hfe,  and  a  little  beyond.  His  genius 
is  'photographic  in  its  truth  and  in  its  exaggeration. 
It  may  transcend  the  ordinary,  —  it  never  out- 
rages the  possible.  His  pictures  are,  on  the  whole, 
boldly,  ruggedly  real  ;  yet  touched  by  tender, 
relenting,  ideal  lights,  which  only  a  poet  could 
see  belonged  there.  I  have  seen  two  or  three 
miners  who  might  have  walked  out  of  his  verse, 
so  quaint  and  simple  and  sturdy  and  Bret  Hartey 


264  CALIFORNIA. 


were  they.  But  most  of  this  class  have  the 
swing  and  the  slang  and  the  swear,  without  the 
sentiment.  They  can  bring  out  "  That 's  so,"  and 
"  You  bet,"  and  "  Little  cuss,"  very  satisfactorily  ; 
but  somehow  they  don't  look  like  men  likely  to 
play  Damon  in  a  Drift,  or  Child's  Nurse  in 
a  Roaring  Camp,  or  Santa  Claus  at  Simpson's 
Bar. 

But  to  return  to  our  journey.  From  Vallejo 
the  California  Pacific  passes  up  the  smiling,  wav- 
ing, sunny,  shadowy  Napa  Valley,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  fruitful  of  the  many  happy 
valleys  in  this  grand  State.  Napa  City  is  a 
charmingly  situated  town,  neat  and  bright,  and 
embowered  in  vines  and  roses.  St.  Helena  is 
another  exceedingly  attractive  place,  and  the  drive 
from  there  to  the  Springs  was  most  enjoyable. 
The  White  Sulphur  Springs  are  in  a  canon,  deep, 
and  with  thickly  wooded  sides,  but  wide  enough 
to  allow  of  the  free  entrance  of  sunshine  during 
a  good  part  of  the  day.  A  clear,  sparkling,  mu- 
sical stream  runs  through  it,  and  ferns,  mosses, 
shrubs  and  flowers  and  vines  abound.  In  fact,  it 
is  one   of  the  very  loveliest  spots  I  have  seen  in 


WHITE     SULPHUR     SPRINGS.  265 

■ -  -  --  ■  ■■  ... 

California,  —  the  very  place  to  rest  in  from  the 
fatigue  of  overland  travel,  or  the  more  intolera- 
ble weariness  of  a  sea  voyage,  or  from  the  social 
dissipation  and  fierce  stock -gambling  excitements 
of  the   city. 

I  mean  to  tell  the  simple  truth,  in  all  good 
feeling,  in  regard  to  these  places  of  resort,  having 
some  little  sense  of  responsibility  and  of  duty 
toward  the  travelling  public.  Prices  at  these 
Springs  are  high,  as  at  all  places  of  the  kind  on 
the  coast,  unreasonably  high  for  so  fruitful  a  land 
and  so  bounteous  a  market,  and  considering  the 
usually  very  indifferent  accommodations  and  in- 
sufficient attendance  ;  but  at  this  particular  place 
courteous  attention  is  paid  to  the  guests,  the  table 
is  good,  if  not  sumptuous,  and  neatness  and  good 
order  are  the  rule.  It  is  worth  while  to  visit  the 
place  for  the  sake  of  the  excellent  society  you 
are  very  sure  to  meet  there,  and  for  the  exquisite 
pictures  you  will  carry  away  with  you  of  the  flow- 
ery canon,  and  the  wild  but  lovely  grounds  about 
the  Springs.  I  shall  never  forget  a  delicious 
horseback  ride  I  took  there  one  perfect  afternoon  ; 
and  I  left  my  blessing  on   the   sunny   head  of  the 

12 


266  CALIFORNIA. 


dear  boy  who  generously  denied  himself  the  pleas- 
ure of  his  usual  gallop  to  lend  his  horse  to  me 
for  a  few  bright,  swift,  enchanted  hours. 

Calistoga  Hot  Springs,  some  ten  miles  up  the 
Napa  Valley,  has  a  very  picturesque  outlook,  hav- 
ing old  Mount  St.  Helena  in  full  sight  ;  but  it  is 
not  in  itself  attractive.  It  has  too  little  shelter 
from  the  sun,  or  privacy  of  any  kind  ;  it  is  a  dus- 
ty, noisy,  all-out-doors  sort  of  a  place  during  the 
day,  while  mosquitoes  of  a  peculiarly  huge  and  fe- 
rocious sort  make  night  hideous.  Yet  the  kindly 
hotel  people  seem  to  have  done  their  best  to 
protect  their  lodgers  from  these  imps  of  darkness 
by  a  very  ingenious  contrivance.  Over  each  bed 
is  hung  a  mosquito-trap,  in  the  shape  of  a  small, 
circular  pink  net,  rather  pretty  to  look  at,  which 
revolves  continually,  swooping  up  mosquitoes  at 
every  turn,  till  at  last  they  are  all  snugly  gath- 
ered in,  and  you  can  take  refuge  outside  and 
sleep   in   peace. 

The  accommodations  here  are  very  unequal. 
There  are  some  quite  pretty  and  commodious  cot- 
tages, and  some  miserable  shanties,  called  by  cer- 
tain romantic  names,   as   "  Laurel,"    and   "  Willow," 


CALISTOGA    HOT    SPRINGS.  267 

but  Utterly  forlorn  and  comfortless.  Into  one  of 
the  latter  was  your  correspondent  put  with  her 
indignant  companion,  with  not  even  a  rocking- 
chair  to  soften  the  rigors  of  their  lot.  But  luck- 
ily a  friend,  with  a  nice  room  to  spare  in  her 
cottage,  came  to  the  rescue  ;  and  after  that,  life  at 
the  Springs  was  more  tolerable,  even  with  a  bad 
cold.  We  managed  to  worry  through  two  or  three 
days,  just.  We  found  the  landlord  a  genial,  kind- 
ly personage,  and  the  landlord's  wife  a  sweet,  bon- 
nie  Scots-woman,  and  the  landlord's  wife's  brother 
very  agreeable  and  obliging.  I  shall  long  pleas- 
antly remember  them.  The  waters  here  are  doubt- 
less very  efficacious  for  various  ills,  and  in  the 
baths  you  have  a  wide  choice.  You  can  dis- 
port yourself  in  a  great  swimming-basin,  you  can 
soak  in  bran-water,  or  be  parboiled  in  steam  right 
out  of  a  tame  geyser,  or  simmer  in  the  "  medicat- 
ed bath,"  or  toast  in  the  "  sun-bath,"  or  you  can 
be  plunged  in  warm,  soft  mud  up  to  the  chin. 
In  old  times  the  Indian  doctors  used  to  set  their 
rheumatic  patients  over  night,  and  in  the  morning 
they  would  pry  them  out,  new  men.  This  heroic 
treatment  was   subject  to   a    slight   drawback ;    oc- 


268  CALIFORNIA. 


casionally  it  was  found  that  the  cayotes  had  come 
in   the   night,    and   eaten   the   patients'   heads   off. 

About  five  miles  to  the  southwest  of  CaHstoga, 
lies  the  Petrified  Forest,  so  called.  The  name, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  calculated  to  mislead  and 
delude  the  unsophisticated  and  confiding  mind,  as 
the  "  Forest,"  which  many  picture  to  themselves 
as  standing  in  stony  grandeur,  full -limbed  and 
leafed,  with  petrified  nuts  and  cones,  and  birds'- 
nests  with  the  birds  on  them,  just  as  the  petri- 
faction struck  them,  is  found  to  consist  merely 
of  a  few  widely  scattered,  half-buried  stumps  and 
sections  of  trees,  —  not  by  any  means  a  full  as- 
sortment, —  curious  things,  certainly,  and  respecta- 
ble on  account  of  age,  but  hardly  repaying  one 
for  the  trouble  and  expense  of  seeking  them. 
The  grotto  of  this  same  mummified  sort  of  tim- 
ber, to  be  seen  near  the  Calistoga  Hotel,  is  quite 
as  satisfactory,  especially  if  one  can  grasp  and 
hold  the  idea  that  it  grew,  and  stands  where  it 
was   petrified. 

When,  after  a  charming  drive,  we  arrived  at 
the  Forest,  we  were  commended  to  a  guide, 
living    on    the    land,    which    he    has   "taken    up." 


THE    PETRIFIED    FOREST.  269 

A  primitive  and  pensive  solitary  is  he,  a  gentle 
hermit  of  the  dale,  and  known  as  "  Petrified 
Charley."  He  converses  learnedly  by  the  way  on 
the  mysteries  of  science  and  nature,  especially  on 
volcanoes,  and  gives  you  to  understand  that  his 
theory  in  regard  to  the  trees  differs  from  that 
of  Marsh  or  Whitney.  He  thinks  they  never 
"growed"  where  they  lie,  but  were  heaved  up 
here  from  the  "  walley "  in  a  "  conwulsion." 
That  explains  the  petrified  grotto  down  at  the 
Springs.  He  glows  with  mild  enthusiasm  over 
his  particular  pet  petrifactions,  —  one  monstrous 
trunk,  a  stump  of  ancient  charcoal,  another 
stump,  in  the  heart  of  which  is  yet  to  be  seen 
the  almost  unchanged  fibre  of  the  primeval  red- 
wood,  a  rare  done   petrifaction. 

The  most  interesting  of  all  his  sights  is  a 
huge  trunk,  one  of  the  unhappy  conifer  family, 
overtaken  by  that  mysterious  misfortune  ages  on 
ages  ago,  out  of  a  cleft  of  which  trunk  has 
grown  a  stately  young  tree.  It  seemed  almost 
as  strange  as  it  would  be  to  one,  rambling  in 
the  vicinity  of  old  Sodom,  to  come  upon  Lot's 
crystallized  wife,   with   a  live .  baby   in   her  arms. 


270  CALIFORNIA. 


This  miraculous  tree  bore  strange  fruit,  in  the 
shape  of  the  following  notice.  You  will  observe 
the   petrified   character   of  the   orthography :  — 

"  Visiters  going  on  the  forest  without  the 
guide  charder  the  same,  when  the  guide  is 
Present,  visiters  are  requoisted  not  to  break,  or 
cary  away  any  of  the  Ptrefid  wod  without  the 
oner's  permistion." 

Early  every  morning,  during  the  season  of 
mountain  travel,  Foss  and  Connolly's  six-horse 
stages  —  which,  by  the  way,  are  open  wagons,  but 
as  comfortable  as  they  are  safe  —  leave  the  hotel 
at  the  Springs  for  the  Geysers,  over  the  hills 
some  twenty-eight  miles  away.  One  of  these 
wagons  is  always  driven  by  the  renowned  Foss 
himself,  but  now,  in  the  immense  increase  of 
travel,  he  has  to  divide  himself,  as  it  were,  to 
give  all  a  taste  of  his  quality,  taking  his  pas- 
sengers only  to  the  half-way  station,  where  he 
meets  the  returning  stages,  one  of  which  he 
drives  back  to  Calistoga,  making  his  grand  entry 
at  the  hotel  grounds  a  little  after  midday  in 
thoroughly  magnificent  style.  It  would  thrill 
your   heart   to   see   that  entry  as   it   has   not   been 


TO    THE    GEYSERS.  271 

thrilled  since  first  you  saw  in  your  old  childish 
days  the  throbbing  canvas  withdrawn,  the  wooden 
barrier  removed,  and  the  whole  splendid  troop 
of  circus-riders  come  dashing  into  the  ring  ! 

The  route  from  here  to  the  Geysers  is  not 
the  highly  picturesque  and  perilous  road  so  often 
described  by  terrified  tourists  from  Healdsburg, 
over  the  Hog's  Back  and  the  Sugar-Loaf,  and 
down  a  grade  that  was  simply  something  ap- 
palling. Foss,  the  great  driver,  who  has  gath- 
ered all  his  bristling  honors  on  the  Hog's 
Back,  professes  to  have  become  satiated  with 
renown,  to  have  "  supped  full  of  horrors,"  and 
will  drive  on  that  "  parlous "  mountain  track  no 
more,  for  love  nor  money.  His  new  road  is 
admirably  constructed,  commands  some  grand 
views,  and  has  some  sufficiently  dangerous  and 
awe-inspiring  points.  To  me  the  entire  drive 
was  full  of  keen  and  thrilling  enjoyment ;  the 
magnificent  and  ever-varying  views,  the  glorious 
mountain  air,  the  silver  glimpses  of  mountain 
streams,  the  dense  summer  foliage,  the  marvel- 
lous multitude  of  flowers,  the  joyous  company 
of    birds,     all    along    the     wild,    winding,    lovely, 


272  CALIFORNIA. 


lonely  way.  For  many  miles  toiling  up  and  dash- 
ing down  the  mountain,  we  passed  no  human 
habitation,  encountered  no  human  creature  ;  all 
save  the  well-built  road  was  primeval  wildness 
and  shadow  and  savage  mystery.  Around  point 
after  point  and  curve  after  curve,  we  crept  or 
swung,  in  slow  ascent  and  swift  descent.  A 
mountain  wall  on  one  side,  a  steep  declivity, 
dipping  down  to  a  dark  caiion  on  the  other, 
and  we  soon  ceased  to  repine  for  the  Hog's 
Back,  with  a  sheer  precipice  on  either  hand. 
We  had  scarcely  room  in  our  full  hearts  to  envy 
the  fortunate  tourists  who,  last  summer,  when 
this  road  was  first  opened,  saw  sometimes  a  big 
grizzly  galloping  along  before  them,  like  an 
avant-com'ier.  All  the  younger  drivers  on  this 
road  have  been  trained  by  Foss.  They  have  a 
good  deal  of  his  nerve,  his  accuracy  and  careful- 
ness, without  his  splendid  dash.  The  two  we 
rode  with,  Nash  and  Gwin,  we  found  rare  good 
fellows,  sociable,  obliging,  and  intelligent.  We 
were  really  surprised  at  their  store  of  informa- 
tion in  regard  to  the  plants,  birds,  and  animals 
of   the   region.     Not   a  flower  nodded   to   us   from 


THE    GEYSER    HOTEL.  273 

the  bank,  but  they  knew  its  name.  Not  a 
winged  creature  piped  to  us  out  of  the  soUtude, 
but   they   recognized   its   note. 

The  Geyser  Springs  Hotel  is  a  rough,  rambUng, 
rather  picturesque  edifice,  embowered  in  shade, — 
a  cool,  quiet,  unpretending  place.  It  is  well  kept 
by  a  genial  and  intelligent  German,  "  which  his 
name "  is  Susenbeth.  Here  we  were  kindly  enter- 
tained, and  found,  if  not  luxuries,  some  comforts, 
which  we  were  well  prepared  to  appreciate.  Here, 
if  they  did  not  have  bills  of  fare,  they  had  fair  bills, 
and  if  we  were  not  lodged  luxuriously,  we  had  no 
reason  to  remember  regretfully  accommodations  in 
more  pretentious  hotels  below,  where  beds  were  a 
hollow  mockery,  where  pillows  dissolved  and  slunk 
away  under  our  heads,  where  mosquito-bars  were  a 
delusion  and  a  snare,  where  cleanliness,  ventilation, 
and  slop-jars  were  not. 

In  the  landlord's  young  wife  we  found  a  singu- 
larly spirited  and  original  character,  an  enthusiastic 
mountaineer,  a  good  rider,  climber,  and  shot.  In 
rough  Yosemite  costume,  she  explores  these  heights 
and  gorges  ;  she  hunts  the  deer,  the  fox,  the  hare, 
though  the  wildcat  is  her  specialty. 

12*  R 


274  CALIFORNIA. 


The  air  at  this  mountain  retreat  is  pure  and  bra- 
cing ;  for  though  you  descend  for  miles  to  reach  the 
spot,  it  has  the  respectable  altitude  of  sixteen  hun- 
dred and  ninety  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 
The  waters  and  baths  are  said  to  possess  wonderful 
curative  powers.  The  great  tragedian,  Edwin  For- 
rest, while  suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  rheu- 
matism, some  years  ago,  went  into  the  Indian  mud- 
bath  one  day,  and  came  out  all  ready  to  play  Othello 
or  Metamora. 

Just  opposite  the  hotel,  across  a  little  foot-bridge, 
is  the  mouth  of  the  great  Geyser,  or  Devil's  Canon, 
This  mysterious,  vaporous  gorge  we  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  exploring,  attired  as  we  were  in  short 
dresses  and  stout  boots,  with  a  good  alpenstock 
in  hand  ;  though,  if  you  do  not  look  where  you 
step,  you  may  get  your  foot  in,  almost  anywhere. 
All  the  way  you  seem  to  be  walking  over  a  thin, 
hard  crust,  just  dividing  you  from  black,  boiling 
abysses  and  sulphurous  seas,  —  all  the  classic  hor- 
rors of  Tartarus,  and  the  later  orthodox  horrors  of 
"  the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone."  As  I  marked 
the  hissing  hot  steam  and  the  stifling  vapors  burst- 
ing out  on  every  side,  certain  sacred  texts,  familiar 


THE    GEYSERS.  275 


to  my  happy  Sunday-school  days,  came  back  to  me, 
and  I  found  myself  pensively  repeating,  "  The  smoke 
of  their  torment  ascendeth  up  for  ever  and  ever." 
Surely,  "it  is  good  to  be  here." 

We  had  a  guide  who,  though  young,  was  wise, 
and  threw  a  blaze  of  light  on  our  ignorance  at 
every  step.  The  Devil  seems  to  be  recognized  as 
the  original  proprietor  of  this  region  :  the  gulch 
is  full  of  his  diggings  ;  every  point  or  object  of 
interest  is  named  after  him,  with  the  exception 
of  the  Great  Caldron,  named  after  the  Witches  of 
Macbeth,  but  that's  all  in  the  family;  and  a  grotto, 
named  Proserpine,  on  account  of  her  Plutonian 
associations.  She  gathered  here  the  flour  of  sul- 
phur, perhaps.  Yet  there  is  another  grotto  lately 
named  for  Mr.  Delano,  who,  in  one  of  his  little 
excursions,  dropped  in  on  the  Geysers.  It  strikes 
me  he  may  as  modestly  as  appropriately  accept 
here  some  of  the  Devil's  superfluous  honors,  being 
Secretary  of  the  Interior. 

You  are  early  invited  to  rest  on  The  Devil's 
Arm-Chair,  and  to  pause  in  a  dark  rocky  nook, 
where  things  are-  lying  about  loose,  and  wild 
disorder   reigns,   called   The   Devil's    Office.     From 


276  CALIFORNIA. 


this  point  for  nearly  half  a  mile  you  meet  no  tree, 
no  shrub,  scarcely  a  tuft  of  grass,  on  your  rough 
path.  The  earth  along  the  stream,  and  far  up  the 
steep  banks,  is  like  ashes,  dead  and  dry,  except 
where  the  hot  springs  pour  madly  forth.  But  great 
portions  of  both  ground  and  rock  are  "  ringed, 
streaked,  and  spotted  "  by  a  vast  variety  of  chemi- 
cal deposits  and  compounds;  for  the  canon  is  but 
a  huge  diabolical  chemical  laboratory.  There  is 
the  Alum  and  Iron  Spring,  the  Boiling  Alum 
and  Sulphur  Spring,  the  Black  Sulphur  Spring, 
the  Intermittent  Scalding  Spring,  the  Boiling  Eye- 
Water  Spring,  the  Alkali  Spring,  and  the  Black 
Spring,  holding  nitrate  of  silver,  and  called  The 
Devil's  Inkstand.  All  these  you  are  generously 
invited  to  taste  as  you  pass  along.  You  can 
reach  out  almost  anywhere  and  help  yourself  to 
Epsom-salts.  Sulphur  lies  about  you  in  tempt- 
ing profusion,  like  yellow  snow.  What  a  paradise 
for  the  female  Squeers  !  Then  you  have  copperas, 
iron,  alum,  tartaric  acid,  magnesia,  and  cinnabar  — 
holding  mercury  —  and  other  allopathic  horrors.  No 
wonder  Nature  is  sick  here,  palsied,  jaundiced,  af- 
flicted  with   sore   boils  and   other  eruptions.      The 


THE    CANON     OF     EVIL.  277 

usfliest  of  all  her  ailments  is  the  "  black  vomit," 
the  before-mentioned  Devil's  Inkstand.  That  nasty 
little  fountain  seems  to  bubble  forth  with  a  spiteful 
alacrity,  as  though  to  supply  an  unlimited  order 
from  the  satanic  school  of  literature. 

It  was  a  strange,  bewildering  walk,  or  rather 
scramble,  up  that  desolate,  dreary  caiion,  with  its 
countless  evil  sights  and  smells,  over  hot  slag  and 
scoria,  with  the  whistle  and  hiss  and  gurgle  and 
"  chug,  chug "  of  internal  forces  and  infernal  ma- 
chinery beneath  and  around  you.  The  most  aw- 
ful thing  to  see  is  The  Witches'  Caldron,  a  black, 
mysterious,  tumultuous,  boiling  well,  "  over  seven 
feet  in  diameter  and  of  unknown  depth."  It  has 
been  sounded  four  hundred  yards  and  no  bottom 
found.  Its  temperature  is  292°  Fahrenheit.  Eggs 
are  often  boiled  in  it  by  tourists  ;  and  a  whole  ox 
can  be  as  satisfactorily  cooked  in  it,  if  you  are 
fond  of  ox  boiled  in  sulphur  water.  All  this  is  so, 
for  I  heard  the  guide  tell  the  story  repeatedly.  To 
each  of  the  party  he  told  it  in  precisely  the  same 
words ;  indeed,  I  must  confess  to  having  com- 
pelled the  ingenuous  youth  to  go  over  it  several 
times  for  my  benefit  alone, —  I  being  blessed  with 


278  CALIFORNIA. 


a  bad  memory,  and  having  an  unfortunate  desire 
to  be  accurate  in  my  statements.  The  grandest 
thing  to  hear  of  all  these  wonders  is  The  Steam- 
boat. A  large  portion  of  the  bank,  standing  out 
like  a  mound,  seems  alive  with  Geysers,  throbbing, 
shaking,  roaring,  and  puffing  with  a  stupendous  force 
and  fury  of  fighting  elements.  This  most  vexed 
and  tortured  point  in  the  caiion  sends  up  the 
heaviest  columns  of  steam,  and  never  softens  its 
"  terrible  rumble  and  grumble  and  roar."  Some 
time  since  a  tourist  undertook  to  examine  it  from 
above,  but  presently  sank  to  his  knees  in  the  hot, 
biting  mineral  deposits  and  made  haste  to  depart. 
He  sacrificed  a  pair  of  trousers  to  science,  and 
came  near  having  to  throw  in  his  legs. 

A  fine  point  of  observation  is  a  rocky  height 
just  above  and  opposite  The  Steamboat,  called 
The  Devil's  Pulpit.  How  easy  to  preach  from 
this  point  a  regular,  old-fashioned  Calvinistic  ser- 
mon!  It  would  almost  preach  itself  Here  we 
turned  to  the  left,  and  began  our  descent  by  an- 
other and  a  pleasanter  way.  We  even  found  a 
"Lovers'  Retreat,"  a  green  and  flowery  nook;  but 
the  Devil  was  even  near  that  little  sylvan  paradise, 


FREE    FROM    THE     INFERNO.  279 

with  his  Lunch-Table  and  his  Teakettle,  and 
other  culinary  appointments,  not  comprehended  in 
the  group  of  geysers  known  as  his  Kitchen.  We 
were  shown  the  supposed  crater  of  the  extinct  vol- 
cano through  which  all  these  panting,  hissing  de- 
mons once  found  vent  for  their  angry  passions. 
It  is  a  moderate-sized  hollow  in  the  earth,  not 
to  be  compared  with  the   Solfatara  near  Naples. 

It  was  strange  with  what  jolly  spirits  and  hearty 
appetites  we  gathered  at  mess,  after  our  perilous  re- 
connoissance  of  the  great  enemy's  works,  —  strange 
that  we  were  not  more  solemnized  by  that  awesome 
stroll  on  the  borders  of  another  and  a  hotter  world. 
I  have  an  idea  that  Mrs.  Proserpine  Pluto,  when 
she  made  her  yearly  visits  to  her  mother,  relished 
the  barley-cakes  and  cracked  wheat  poor  Ceres 
had  ready  for  her,  and  that  if  Eurydice  could  have 
got  out  of  the  infernal  regions  with  her  husband 
Orpheus,  before  his  charm  was  "played  out,"  she 
would  have  had  no  objection  to  a  supper  of  wild 
kid,  or  oysters  from  Lake  Avernus  ;  I  suspect  that 
if  Dives  could  have  returned  to  warn  those  wicked 
kinsmen  of  his,  he  would  have  delivered  his  homily 
over  a  smoking  board  and  a  flowing  bowl. 


28o  CALIFORNIA. 


The  evening  was  cool,  and  we  all  enjoyed  a 
bright  wood  fire,  sitting  beside  an  old-fashioned 
fireplace  in  the  pleasant  parlor.  We  made  a  call 
on  our  fair  landlady,  the  huntress  of  the  Geysers. 
We  found  her  in  her  boudoir,  quietly  sewing  on  a 
silken  vestment,  with  her  sandaled  feet  resting  on 
a  barbaric  brindled  rug,  the  skin  of  one  of  her  own 
wildcats. 

Early  on  a  resplendent  m.orning  we  drove  reluc- 
tantly from  the  pleasant  inn,  and  out  of  the  sight 
and  sound  of  the  great  Geysers.  They  do  not 
spout  as  high  as  I  looked  to  see  them,  and  they 
"  roar  you  more  gently "  than  I  expected  to  hear 
them  ;  but  they  are  well  worth  seeing  for  once  in 
one's  lifetime,  and  must  always  be  remembered  as 
something  "grand,  gloomy,  and  peculiar." 

Wash.  Gwin  drove  us  to  Pine  Flat  Station,  be- 
yond the  summit,  where  we  met  Foss,  who  gave 
my  friend  and  me  seats  on  the  box.  Let  me  give 
a  little  sketch  of  this  really  remarkable  person. 
Clarke  Foss,  a  New  Hampshire  man  by  birth,  and 
now  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  is  tall,  large, 
sturdy,  and  ruddy,  has  a  strong  head,  with  close, 
curling,  dark  hair,  a  rugged  face,  a  clear  eye,  and 


A    MONARCH    OF    THE    COACH-BOX.  281 

a  firm  jaw,  a  look  of  mastery  and  will,  matchless 
courage,  and  a  certain  rude  cynicism,  —  marks  of 
a  character  which  would  be  hard  and  reckless  and 
even  cruel,  but  for  the  quaint  humor,  kindly  in 
spite  of  him,  —  a  native  heartiness  and  sympathy, 
and  a  large,  dashing  generosity,  which  a  good  deal 
of  misfortune  and  some  bitter  experiences  in  life 
have  never  been  able  to  destroy.  The  build  of 
the  man  is  magnificent  and  his  muscular  power 
is  extraordinary. 

Mr  Foss  has  his  own  philosophy  of  life,  his 
own  ideas  on  morals  and  religion, —  ideas  that 
would  slightly  astonish  a  student  of  ethics,  and 
startle  an  Andover  theologian  ;  but  in  the  domain 
of  grand  stage-routes,  over  subjugated  horse-flesh, 
lies  his  greatness.  He  is  the  monarch  of  the 
coach-box.  We  may  put  faith  in  his  subordinates, 
may  even  admire  their  arts  with  the  reins, 
their  little  airs  with  the  whip:  but  when  we  sit 
beside  Foss,  and  watch  for  a  few  moments  his 
magnificent  driving,  we  see  a  difference :  "  the 
substitute  shines  brightly  as  the  king,  until  the 
king  is  by."  No  driving  I  have  ever  seen  has 
given   me    such    an    impression    of  power    and    of 


282  CALIFORNIA. 


skill,  of  audacity  and  security.  It  is  free  and 
dashing,  yet  marvelously  accurate ;  it  is  furiously 
fast,  yet  smooth  and  even,  and  seems  calculated  in 
every  curve  and  angle  with  mathematical  preci- 
sion and  certainty.  In  truth,  I  cannot  conceive  of 
greater  luxury  of  locomotion  than  a  ride  by  the 
side  of  Foss  down  those  beautiful  mountain  slopes. 
This  mighty  "son  of  Nimshi"  is  not  rough  or 
rigorous  with  his  horses,  at  least  after  they  are 
trained.  He  believes  in  a  horse,  and  has  great 
patience  and  tact  in  breaking  one  in.  Each  horse 
knows  his  name,  and  will  answer  to  it  instantly  ; 
indeed,  seems  always  listening  for  it,  with  every 
nerve  strung  and  every  faculty  attent.  His  words 
of  command  are  few  and  simple.  At  his  "  All 
right  ! "  "  Shake  out !  "  or  "  Let  go  !  "  all  six  spring 
forward  as  one  horse.  To  his  "  Steady,  boys  ! "  or 
"  Slow  !  "  or  "  Look  sharp  !  "  they  pay  instant  and 
perfect  heed.  He  plays  on  their  affection,  pride, 
ambition,  all  their  grand  equine  passions,  as  a  skillful 
musician  plays  on  his  instrument.  And  yet  these 
horses  seem  not  so  much  subjugated  as  inspired 
creatures.  They  recognize  authority  in  the  spirit 
of  a  glad  obedience  ;  hardly  seem  to  feel  that  they 


THE     VINEYARDS     OF     NAPA.  283 


are  driven,  but  evidently  fancy  that  they  are  going 
at  that  splendid  rate  of  their  own  accord,  and  for 
the  fun  of  it. 

All  tourists  ambitious  of  having  an  experience 
like  mine,  —  a  wild,  galloping  drive  like  Phaeton's, 
without  the  responsibihty  and  the  peril,  —  should 
lose  no  time  in  making  this  glorious  excursion. 
The  great  Geysers  will  spout  forever,  but  alas !  the 
great  driver  will  not  drive  forever.  The  time  must 
come  at  last,  may  come  soon,  when  his  burly  form 
and  bluff  countenance  will  disappear  from  the  box, 
when  his  firm  foot  will  press  the  brake,  when  his 
strong  hands  will  hold  the  reins  and  the  whip,  no 
more  ;  when  all  those  clever,  half-human  horses 
will  listen  for  his  ringing  voice  in  vain  ;  when  the 
renowned  and  lamented  Clarke  Foss  will  rest  from 
his  labors,  and  retire  on  a  comfortable  competence. 

On  our  way  home  we  spent  a  night  with  friends 
in  pleasant  Napa,  and  in  the  morning  took  stage 
over  the  hills  to  Sonoma  Valley,  where  we  spent 
two  or  three  days  among  the  vine-growers,  very 
agreeably.  Our  host.  Major  Snyder,  a  genial  and 
hospitable  gentleman,  has  choice  vineyards,  and 
manufactures    wine  of  very    superior   quality.     Ad- 


284  CALIFORNIA. 


joining  his  are  the  vineyards  of  the  "  Buena  Vista 
Vinecultural  Society,"  who  really  do  a  business  in 
proportion  to  their  name.  They  make  various 
kinds  of  white  and  red  wine,  brandy,  and  cham- 
pagne of  excellent  quality.  They  have  nearly  five 
hundred  acres  in  vines.  Their  wine-cellars,  now 
containing  two  hundred  thousand  gallons  of  wine 
and  brandy  and  six  thousand  dozen  of  champagne, 
are  excavations  in  the  solid  rock.  These  sombre 
halls,  as  we  passed  through  them,  tapers  in  hand, 
reminded  us  of  the  Roman  Catacombs  ;  but  the 
agreeable  young  men  who  escorted  us  were  not 
much  after  the  Dominican  order  of  guides,  and  the 
entertainment  they  gave  us  was  far  other  than 
the  droning  out  of  old,  saintly  legends.  The  entire 
process  of  manufacture  was  courteously  explained 
to  me,  and  afterward  impressed  on  my  mind  by  a 
sparkling  glass  of  the  last,  highest  result, —  cham- 
pagne of  the  most  delicious  flavor  and  delicate 
pink  topaz  tint. 

From  Sonoma  we  had  a  charming  morning 
ride  of  ten  miles,  on  the  outside  of  the  stage- 
coach, to  Lakeville,  and  from  thence,  by  rail 
and    steamboat,     a   quiet     little    journey,    through 


HOW     TO     CURE     A     COLD.  285 

dazzling  sunshine  and   over   placid  waters,     to     the 
city,  —  busy,   gusty,   dusty,   dear   old    Frisco ! 

I  ought  not  to  omit  stating  that  the  cold  and 
cough  that  had  oppressed  and  racked  me  for 
two  weeks  suddenly  and  mysteriously  departed  at 
Sonoma.  So,  if  you  have  a  cold  which  nothing 
else  can  move  or  touch,  the  remedy  is  simple 
and  easy,  and  not  disagreeable.  Seek  the  wild, 
sweet  air  of  Sonoma,  partake  freely  of  it,  then 
take  a  glass  or  two  of  Major  Snyder's  El  Cer- 
rito,  say  once  in  six  hours,  alternated  with  Bu- 
ena  Vista  champagne,  abstain  from  stimulants, 
and  avoid  all  work,  and  you  will  see  the  result. 
A  cold  that  can't  be  cured  by  such  means  is  n't 
worth    curing. 

Vera  Cruz,  May  30. 

Like  the  progressive  women  we  are,  my  dear 
companion  and  I  rested  but  a  short  time  in 
town,  and  then  resumed  our  jolly  journeying. 
We  went  first  to  Santa  Clara,  where  we  visited 
some  pleasant  friends  who  own  one  of  the  great 
fruit  ranches  with  which  that  beautiful  region 
abounds.  Here  we  revelled  in  bloom  and  shade 
and    fragrance;    here   we   ate    ripe    cherries    from 


286  CALIFORNIA. 


the  trees  and  strawberries  from  the  vines.  Here 
we  rambled  through  long  avenues  of  apple  and 
pear  and  peach  trees  of  noble  growth,  and  past 
fine  vineyards  and  raspberry  and  blackberry  plan- 
tations. Mr.  Watkins,  our  host,  has  now  a  hun- 
dred acres  in  fruit  trees  of  the  choicest  varieties 
and  in  the  best  possible  condition.  Twenty  years 
ago,  on  this  ranch,  there  was  but  a  single  tree, 
—  a  live-oak.  All  this  seems  rather  creation  than 
cultivation. 

Just  as  the  brilliant  summer  day  was  melting  into 
the  tender,  purple  twilight,  we  drove  down  to 
San  Jose, —  that  wonderful  drive  through  the  Ala- 
meda,—  and  put  up  at  the  Auzerais  House,  a 
handsome,  but  home-like  hotel,  and  admirably  kept. 
Such  a  satisfactory  stopping-place  you  do  not  find 
everywhere,  even  in  California.  "When  found 
make   a   note  of  it." 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day  we  set  out 
with  a  party  of  friends  for  the  New  Almaden 
quicksilver  mines,  some  twelve  miles  away,  in  the 
Santa  Cruz  range  of  mountains,  and  on  the  Ala- 
mitos  Creek,  —  a  very  charming  drive  ordinarily  at 
this    season,    when    the    road    is   well   shaded.     But 


NEW    ALMADEN     QUICKSILVER.  287 


a  late  spring  frost  blighted  the  young  foliage 
of  the  noble  sycamores  which  stand  all  along  the 
way,  and  there  is  now  little  to  soften  or  brighten 
the   sunny,  dusty  journey. 

This  quicksilver  mine,  the  largest  and  richest 
in  the  world  with  the  exception  of  the  old  Al- 
maden  in  Spain,  has  been  systematically  worked 
for  only  twenty  years.  It  was  first  known  to 
white  men  as  long  ago  as  1824,  worked  a  while' 
for  silver,  and  then  for  a  long  time  abandoned. 
The  padres  at  the  Santa  Clara  Mission  had  some 
specimens  of  the  cinnabar,  and  in  1845  hap- 
pened to  show  them  to  a  visitor,  one  Andreas 
Castillero,  a  Mexican  captain  of  cavalry,  who 
knew  something  of  quicksilver  mining.  He  pul- 
verized a  lump,  and  sprinkled  the  powder  on 
some  live  coals  laid  on  a  tile.  He  next  flung 
water  on  the  coals,  then  placed  a  tumbler  over 
them,  and  presently  had  the  satisfaction  of  see- 
ing little  globules  of  quicksilver  forming  on  the 
glass,  —  the  tiny  forerunners  of  rivers  of  wealth 
yet  to  flow  from  the  secret  depths  of  the  moun- 
tain. With  his  simple  little  reduction-works,  he 
had    solved    the     problem    that    had     baffled    the 


288  CALIFORNIA. 


miners,  the  prospecters,  and  the  priests ;  like  Moses 
he  had  struck  the  rock  and  let  out  the  bright, 
illusive,  mysterious  flood.  I  believe  he  did  not 
greatly  profit  by  his  discovery ;  indeed,  the  mines 
for  many  years  were  worked  in  a  very  unprofitable 
and  irregular  way.  As  usual,  a  mine  had  to  be 
put  into  a  mine,  a  fortune  expended,  before  any- 
thing could  be  realized.  There  are  evidences 
everywhere,  in  works,  roads,  shafts,  and  tunnels, 
of  immense    expenditures. 

In  the  last  twenty  years,  some  twenty-five 
million  dollars'  worth  of  quicksilver  has  been  sold, 
and  of  late  the  discovery  of  rich  deposits  at  a 
great  depth  are  very  encouraging.  But  it  is  the 
most  uncertain  sort  of  mining,  there  being  noth- 
ing like  a  regular  vein  of  ore  to  follow,  but 
only  in  many  places  very  slight  threads  connect- 
ing the  "  ore-spots,"  while  some  of  the  deposits 
are  isolated,  lying  hidden  slyly  away  in  Nature's 
most  secret  drawers  and  dark  pockets.  The 
process  of  reducing  the  ore,  of  rousing  the  latent 
mercury  from  its  sleep  of  a  million  or  so  of 
years,  is  very  interesting  and  easy  of  compre- 
hension,    even    to    a    woman,    when    patiently  and 


THE    BIRTH    OF    MERCURY.  289 

pleasantly  explained,  as  it  was  to  us.  It  is  sim- 
ply burned  out  of  house  and  home,  or  its  dull 
old  body  perishes  by  cremation,  that  it  may  ap- 
pear in  a  glorified  form,  to  shine  and  serve  in 
a  thousand  beautiful  ways.  It  is  compelled  to 
wake  and  come  forth,  or,  as  an  old  miner  said, 
to  "  git  up  and  git,"  by  intense  and  long-continued 
heat.  The  ore  is  put  into  furnaces,  each  holding 
fifteen  thousand  pounds,  and  having  in  one  end 
the  fire,  which  is  kept  up  for  about  three  days. 
The  vapors  from  the  heated  ores  pass  from  the 
furnaces  through  small  apertures,  like  pigeon-holes, 
into  condensing -chambers,  on  the  cool  walls  of 
which  the  globules  of  mercury  form,  and  glide  at 
once  to  the  floor,  where  they  collect  in  little 
gutters  and  flow  out  into  troughs,  which  convey 
them  to  an  iron  caldron,  from  which  they  are 
transferred  to  the  wrought -iron  flasks  in  which 
they  are  sent  to  market.  Each  flask  contains 
seventy-six  and  a  half  pounds,  the  equivalent  of 
seventy-five  pounds  Spanish  measure,  and  is 
worth   forty  dollars. 

It   was   strange    to   see   this    fluid    treasure  come 
flowing  and  flashing  down  like  a  mountain  stream, 
13 


290  CALIFORNIA. 


to  see  it  dipped  up  like  so  much  spring  water. 
The  unstable,  illusive  character  of  this  costly  prod- 
uct is  not  understood  by  all  visitors.  Young  and 
curious  tourists  have  been  known  to  attempt  to 
carry  away  a  thimbleful  or  so  in  their  pockets, 
and  have  confessed  to  having  at  once  experienced 
a  singular  trickling,  tickling  sensation,  usually  pass- 
ing like  a  streak  of  cold  lightning  down  the  right 
leg  and  into  the  boot.  One  elderly  gentleman,  by 
profession  clerical  but  by  temperament  mercurial, 
once  succeeded  in  secreting  a  portion  of  quick- 
silver in  his  spectacle-case,  which  he  carried  in  the 
same  breast-pocket  with  his  watch.  His  little  theft 
was  not  discovered  at  the  time,  but  the  next  morn- 
ing he  indignantly  proclaimed  that  he  had  been 
robbed.  His  valuable  gold  repeater  had  been  taken 
from  his  pocket,  and  a  silver  watch  put  in  its  place. 
The  contents  of  the  spectacle-case  had  also  mys- 
teriously disappeared. 

Quicksilver  in  the  mass  has  such  a  molten  look 
that  you  shrink  from  touching  it ;  but  it  is  exceed- 
ingly cold.  It  gives  you  a  strange  sensation  to 
plunge  your  hand  into  the  solid,  fluid,  heavy,  buoy- 
ant  substance,  which  has    the   very  chill  of  death, 


SLIPPERY    SILVER.  291 

yet  is  alive  in  every  infinitesimal  globule.  There 
seemed  to  me  something  unsubstantial  about  it, 
after  all.  I  could  clutch  it,  but  not  hold  it.  It 
vi^as  like  palpable  moonshine.  I  dipped  my  hand 
in  up  to  the  wrist,  and  not  a  particle  adhered  to 
my  fingers.     Silver  never  would  stay  by  me. 

The  recent  great  influx  of  visitors  has  compelled 
the  directors  of  this  mine  to  deny  strangers  access 
to  the  reducing-works  and  the  tunnels,  unless  they 
come  with  a  special  order  from  the  president  of 
the  company  or  some  other  official  personage.  Of 
course,  the  manager,  Mr.  Randol,  resident  at  the 
works,  has  the  privilege  of  doing  the  honors  at 
any  time  to  his  friends  and  his  friends'  friends.  I 
was  so  fortunate  as  to  bear  a  lettter  to  him  from 
one  whose  name  is  an  "  open  sesame "  everywhere 
on  this  coast,  because  it  is  the  synomyme  of  gener- 
osity  and  hospitality,  and  all  good  and  genial  feel- 
ing. 

We  met  Mr.  Randol  on  his  way  to  San  Jos6  on 
business,  and  presented  the  letter,  asking  merely 
for  a  line  to  some  subordinate  at  New  Almaden, 
which  would  insure  us  a  sight  of  the  reduction- 
works  and   something   of   the   mine.     To   our   sur- 


292  CALIFORNIA. 


prise  he  insisted  on  returning  with  us,  on  accom- 
panying us  everywhere,  giving  up  the  entire  day 
to  us,  in  fact,  and  all  with  an  air  of  such  perfect 
wilHngness  and,  indeed,  enjoyment,  that  we  could 
not  feel  oppressed  by  such  unusual  and  unlooked- 
for  courtesy.  We  gave  ourselves  up  to  the  pleas- 
ure of  a  perfect,  golden  day,  full  of  rare  interest, 
and  to  the  deHght  of  his  bright  companionship, 
with  careless  but  not  unthankful  abandon.  Mr. 
Randol  is  a  cultivated  gentleman,  young  for  a  po- 
sition so  responsible,  a  New-Yorker,  and  a  good 
Republican.  Can  I  say  more  .''  Yes ;  such  bland 
politeness,  such  gentle  and  smiling  patience  as  his 
in  answering  questions  I  have  not  found,  —  no,  not 
in  California, 

First  of  all,  Mr.  Randol  showed  us  the  reduc- 
tion-works, of  which  I  have  tried  to  give  some 
slight  idea.  I  was  surprised  at  the  number  of 
chambers  necessary  for  the  thorough  condensation 
of  the  vapor.  It  sometimes  passes  through  ten  or 
eleven  before  all  the  quicksilver  is  precipitated. 
The  uncondensed,  deleterious  portions  are  carried 
away  by  flues  into  an  immense  high  chimney, 
which  lets  them  off  where  they  can  do  no  harm  to 


UNDERGROUND    MYSTERIES.  293 


man  or  beast.  The  stories  of  miners  and  mules 
perishing  gloomily  of  mercurial  poison,  of  un- 
happy smelters  "working  out  their  own  salivation 
with  fear  and  trembling,"  are  no  longer  to  be 
credited. 

From  the  works  we  drove  up  the  mountain 
to  the  new  tunnel,  which  is  the  one  most 
worked  at  this  time.  It  is  several  hundred  feet 
below  the  old  workings,  is  about  twenty-five 
hundred  feet  in  length,  ten  feet  wide,  and  well 
timbered,  where  it  is  not  cut  through  the  hardest 
kind  of  rock.  Into  this  grand  tunnel  our  party 
was  taken  in  grand  style.  We  rode  in  ore-cars, 
on  blocks  of  wood,  which  made  the  most  reliable 
sort  of  seats.  We  were  drawn  by  a  stout  and 
serious-minded  mule,  and  each  fellow  of  us  carried 
a  lighted  candle  stuck  in  a  spHt  stick.  Thus 
we  plunged  into  the  darkness  and  the  silence 
of  inner  earth,  and  woke  the  sullen  echoes  with 
laughter  and  merry  shouts,  and  called  out  with  our 
flickering  torches  momentary  gleams  from  crystals 
imprisoned  in  the  dull  rocks  for  ages,  dreaming 
of  the  light.  Looking  back  from  the  first  car 
in    the    procession,    it    had    a    strange    wild    look, 


294  CALIFORNIA. 


and  we  all  had  a  sense  of  something  adventur- 
ous and  mysterious,  and  delightfully  awful  and 
Arabian-Nightish,  about  the  expedition.  We  for- 
got that  we  lived  in  a  prosaic  Christian  land, 
and  in  virtuous  Tammany  times,  and  should 
hardly  have  been  surprised  to  come  upon  the 
cave  of  the  Forty  Thieves,  with  all  their 
treasure  in  it  ;  or,  when  we  turned  back  to  the 
day,  to  have  found  the  door  of  the  tunnel 
closed  against  us. 

When  about  eighteen  hundred  feet  in,  we  left 
our  cars,  and  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  —  and  a 
wild,  rough,  pitfallish  way  it  was  —  to  drifts  where 
the  men  are  now  working  at  the  new  discoveries. 
The  ore  is  very  fine  here,  and  apparently 
abundant,  the  cinnabar  showing,  in  wide,  long 
deposits,  the  rich,  red  arteries  of  the  heart  of 
the  old  mountain. 

The  air  in  the  tunnel  and  drifts  we  found 
not  impure,  damp,  or  oppressive,  yet  we  were 
quite  willing  to  return  to  outside  wind  and 
warmth  and  sunhght.  In  going  out  our  mule 
was  put  to  his  metal,  and  made  wonderful  time. 
It    really    seemed    as   if    the   animal    had    absorbed 


A  ROUGH  BUT  ROYAL  DRIVE.         295 

quicksilver  into  his  veins  or  muscles.  Ah !  it 
was  a  jolly  run,  with  nothing  to  break  the 
merry  flow  of  talk  and  laughter  but  an  occa- 
sional shout  from  our  driver  of  "  Heads  down  ! "  or 
"  Look  sharp  ! "  as  we  passed  under  low-lying  tim- 
bers  or   round    a   sharp  corner. 

I  have  had  many  a  grand  drive  in  my  day.  I 
have  driven  in  the  Corso  in  carnival  time ;  my 
elegant  hired  hack  figured  in  a  procession  miles 
long,  going  to  a  Queen's  prorogation  of  Parlia- 
ment ;  I  have  driven  to  weddings  and  races  and 
reviews  and  fashionable  funerals  ;  but  never 
have  I  enjoyed  a  drive  as  I  enjoyed  this.  It 
was  rough,  but  royal,  —  full  of  exhilaration  and 
jollity. 

At  this  point  two  of  our  party  felt  compelled 
to  return  to  San  Jose,  taking  our  carriage.  Mr. 
Randol  kindly  took  my  companion  and  myself 
into  his  own  carriage,  in  which  we  proceeded 
up  the  mountain.  The  second  carriage-load  — a 
charming  family  party  of  five,  who  are  doing 
California  in  the  most  thorough  and  leisurely 
manner  —  was  happy  to  make  a  day  of  it 
with  us. 


296  ■  CALIFORNIA. 


The  fine  drive  up  the  mountain  and  around 
its  summit  gave  us  some  of  the  most  superb 
and  enchanting  views  I  have  yet  had  in  Califor- 
nia. I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  them  ;  in- 
deed, in  their  peculiar,  quiet  loveliness,  they  are 
as  indescribable  as  unforgetable.  Yet,  after  our 
profound  underground  experiences  and  fine  upper- 
air  exaltations,  we  had  excellent  appetites  for  the 
generous  lunch  ordered  for  us  by  Mr.  Randol, 
whose  health  we  joyfully  drank. 

Returned  by  a  cool,  dashing  drive  down  the 
mountain  to  the  pleasant  little  hamlet  at  New 
Almaden,  we  strolled  for  a  while  through  the 
grounds  of  the  picturesque  country-house  built 
by  General  Halleck  when  he  was  manager  of  the 
mine  ;  and  then  our  friend  and  host  proceeded 
to  crown  the  courtesy  which  had  made  for  us  a 
day  of  unequaled  enjoyment,  by  having  attached 
to  his  carriage  four  fresh,  spirited,  handsome 
horses.  And  so,  in  such  state,  he  drove  us  back 
to  our  hotel  at  San  Jos6,  through  the  splendors 
of  sunset  and  the  freshness  of  evening  airs. 
Could  anything  have  been  finer  or  jollier,  more 
nobby  or  nabob-y,  than  that  ? 


ALONG    THE    ALAMEDA.  297 

I  take  great  satisfaction  in  assuring  the  Hon- 
orable President  and  Directors  of  the  Quick- 
silver Mining  Company  in  New  York,  that  they 
could  not  possibly  have  a  more  satisfactory  man 
for  manager  than  Mr.  J.  B.  Randol. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  we  took  out- 
side places  on  the  stage-coach  for  Santa  Cruz. 
The  drive  down  the  Alameda  was  pleasant  but 
comparatively  prosaic.  It  should  be  driven 
through  always  in  the  twilight  or  moonlight. 
Then  your  imagination  goes  back  to  the  rough, 
romantic,  half-heathenish  times,  before  gold  or 
silver  was  discovered  on  the  coast,  and  when 
these  old  willows  were  young.  Then  you  easily 
picture  the  padres  walking  under  their  mys- 
terious shadows,  and  would  hardly  be  surprised 
to  meet  a  procession  of  black-robed,  keen-eyed, 
tight-lipped  Jesuit  ghosts,  taking  their  consti- 
tutional, walking   stealthily,    two   by  two. 

We  were  fortunate  enough  to  find  in  an  outside 
passenger  with  us  the  husband  of  the  Santa  Cruz 
friend  we  were  going  to  visit.  He  had  just  been 
taking  a  run  over  to  England,  and  was  full  of 
pleasant  stories  of  travel  and  sight-seeing. 
13* 


298  CALIFORNIA. 


This  is  called  one  of  the  grandest  stage-routes  in 
the    State ;    but    we   found   ourselves    compelled    to 
pass  through    a   purgatory  of  hot,  blinding,  stifling 
dust,   before  reaching  the  "  Delectable    Mountains." 
The  ride  across   the    San  Jose  Valley  was   tedious, 
but   it   was   soon   forgotten  when   we  began  to  as- 
cend   the    splendid    grade.       The   descent    was,    on 
the  whole,   the  wildest,  most  thrilling,  and  magnifi- 
cent drive  I  have  ever  taken  anywhere.     It  is  more 
perilous  by  far  than  the  present  Geyser  drive,  and 
commands   views   of  'more   savage    grandeur.     Our 
coachman  drove  his  six  horses  furiously,  and  there 
were    many    narrow   curves,    where   it    seemed    that 
the  least  accident  to  the  high  Concord  coach,  or  a 
moment's   fright  or   viciousness  on   the  part  of  the 
horses,  would  have  been  certain   destruction  for   us 
all ;    but  the  fine  mountain  air  and  the  beauty  and 
magnificence  of  the  scenery  supplied  the  necessary 
nerve    and    excitement.      On    these    mountains   and 
in    their   dark   canons   I    had  my   first   view  of  the 
redwoods,  in  all  their  sombre   grandeur,- — the  most 
primitive,  peculiar,  and  individual  of  trees.     Where 
they  are  greenest,  they  have  a  look  of  age ;  where 
most  congregated,  a  look  of  loneliness. 


THE     BIG     TREES.  299 

Santa  Cruz  is  a  beautiful,  smiling  town,  seated 
on  the  knees  of  pleasant  terraces,  with  her  feet  in 
the  sea.  It  has  no  splendid  residences,  but  many- 
pretty,  home-like  houses,  embowered  in  flowers  and 
foliage.  Its  handsomest  edifice  is  the  Unitarian 
Church.  We  have  enjoyed,  with  absolutely  childish 
delight,  our  visits  to  the  beach,  —  watching  the  glo- 
rious surf,  looking  out  on  the  infinite  blue  reaches 
of  sea.  It  seems  to  me  the  Pacific  has  a  more 
cerulean  hue  than  the  Atlantic,  perhaps  because  it 
comes  directly  from  the  Celestial  Empire. 

We  had  a  day  of  pure  enjoyment  in  the  woods. 
We  drove  for  five  or  six  miles  up  the  beautiful 
caiion  of  the  San  Lorenzo,  a  shadowed,  winding, 
mountain  road,  such  as  we  find  nowhere  but  on 
this  coast,  and  picnicked  among  the  "big  trees." 
These  are  gigantic  redwoods,  not  quite  equal  to 
the  Calaveras  or  Mariposa  trees ;  but  wait  a  few 
hundred  years  and  you  will  see.  The  largest, 
named  for  Fremont,  is  two  hundred  and  ten  feet 
in  height  and  eighteen  feet  in  diameter.  In  the 
hollow  trunk  of  another,  Fremont  had  his  quarters 
for  a  while.  A  man  can  ride  into  this  on  horse- 
back,  and    stable    the    horse.     I   was   told   that  a 


CALIFORNIA. 


devoted  wife  once  spent  here  several  months  with 
her  husband,  a  lumberman,  and  kept  a  couple  of 
boarders.  I  felt  for  her.  I  know  what  it  is  to 
live  in  trunks.  By  the  way,  a  young  fellow-pas- 
senger on  the  stage  told  us  several  astonishing 
stories  about  some  big  trees  near  Visalia.  One, 
he  said,  parted  into  three  about  sixteen  feet  from 
the  ground,  and  at  the  point  of  separation  there 
was  a  hollow,  which  hollow  was  always  filled  with 
water,  —  was,  in  fact  a  Httle  lake,  thirty  feet  wide 
and  seventeen  feet  deep.  So  you  could  bathe  or 
boat  in  it  if  you  wished  to,  or  bob  for  eels.  He 
described  the  monstrous  hollow  trunk  of  a  fallen 
tree,  into  which  he  once  rode  on  horseback,  and, 
after  trying  in  vain  to  reach  the  concave  ceiling 
with  his  cane,  galloped  on  for  some  distance,  and 
then  rode  calmly  out  through  a  knot-hole,  —  a  prov- 
idential opening  for  the  young  man.  But  I  have 
found  that  the  only  safe  way  in  this  country  is  to 
doubt  nothing  you  hear,  I  have  an  impression 
that  I  shall  some  time  come  upon  that  triune  tree, 
with  its  remarkable  water  privileges  ;  perhaps  find 
it  utilized  into  a  railroad-tank  or  a  baptistery.  I 
half  expect  to  ride  into  the  same  trunk  prospected 


DARE-DEVIL     DRIVERS     AGAIN.  30I 

by  ray  young  fellow-traveller,  and  to  emerge  at  the 
same  knot-hole. 

San  Francisco,  June  3, 

We  left  Santa  Cruz  yesterday  morning,  and  came 
straight  through  by  the  Watsonville  route.  The 
scenery  on  this  route  is  pleasant,  but  rather  tame, 
with  the  exception  of  that  in  the  Monterey  Valley. 
It  gives  you  a  good  idea  of  the  stupendous  grain 
and  cattle  business.  The  wild-flower  show  is  pal- 
ing out.  The  golden  poppies  grow  small  by  de- 
grees and  beautifully  less,  but  there  are  still,  here 
and  there,  blue  lakes  of  lupin  and  larkspur.  Mus- 
tard grows  everywhere,  bright  against  the  dull 
green  of  the  hillsides,  —  a  beautiful  pest.  Even 
the  thistle -blossoms  of  California  are  handsome. 
Some  are  of  a  peculiar  dark  blood-red. 

We  had  the  usual  outside  seat,  and  studied 
nature  along  our  route,  especially  the  human 
nature  of  the  driver.  There  certainly  is  some- 
thing in  the  employment  of  these  men  that 
sharpens  their  wits  in  certain  directions,  and 
individualizes      them.      They     are     almost     always 

quaint,     droll    fellows,    kindly    and    companionable. 

• 
When,    the    other    day,   we    were    dashing    down 


302 


CALIFORNIA. 


the  mountain  at  a  frightful  rate  of  speed,  and 
some  of  the  passengers  remonstrated,  the  driver 
cheered  us  after  Hank  Monk's  fashion,  "  Don't 
be  troubled,  I  '11  get  you  in  on  time."  It  was  in 
vain  that  we  told  him  it  was  not  time,  but 
eternity,  we  were  troubled  about :  he  was  bound 
to  show  us  that  Foss  was  not  the  only  dare-devil 
on  this  coast.  Yesterday's  driver  cheered  and 
enlivened  the  way  by  stories  of  overturnings 
down  steep  banks,  and  robberies  by  highwaymen. 
The  first  he  had,  of  course,  no  personal  experi- 
ence of,  but  from  the  latter  he  had  suffered 
on  several  occasions.  The  roads  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Visalia  he  spoke  of  as  especially 
infested  by  bandits.  I  remarked  that  drivers 
and  passengers  on  those  perilous  highways  should 
always  be  armed,  and  ready  for  those  melodra- 
matic gentlemen.  "  Madam,"  said  he,  impressively, 
"  did  you  ever  look  down  the  barrel  of  a  loaded 
shot-gun  ? "  I  acknowledged  that  I  had  never 
taken  that  particular  view  of  eternal  realities. 
"  Well,  madam  (see  that  old  cat  thar,  pros- 
pecting about  among  them  gopher-holes !),  sup- 
pose you    sot    here    in    my    place,    and    out,  from 


THE    YOSEMITE.  303 


behind  that  bush,  thar,  should  jump  a  masked 
fellow,  and  cover  you  with  a  double-barrelled 
shot-gun,  before  you  could  have  time  to  even 
think  of  drawing  a  pistol,  and  another  masked 
fellow  should  seize  your  leaders,  and  you  knew 
there  were  lots  more  of  the  rascals  layin'  low, 
just  ready  to  put  a  head  on  you,  —  what  could  you 
do  but  ante  up  ?  " 

GOING   INTO   THE   YOSEMITE. 

The  most  popular  present  route  to  the  valley  — 
and  I  am  inclined  to  think  the  most  picturesque 
and  comfortable,  all  things  considered  —  is  the 
Mariposa,  via  Merced.  We  went  that  way,  a 
select  party  of  seven,  who  left  San  Francisco  on 
the  4th  of  June.  At  Merced  we  left  the  rail- 
way and  spent  the  first  night,  stopping  at  the 
elegant  new  hotel,  "  El  Capitan,"  built  by  the 
Central  Pacific  Railroad  Company,  —  that  dreadful 
monopoly  that  brings  about  so  many  beneficent 
improvements.  Things  were  in  rather  an  unset- 
tled, unfinished  state,  but  we  found  excellent 
beds,   and   slept    delightfully,    as   soon   as   we   were 


304  CALIFORNIA. 


able  to  sleep  at  all  ;  but  unluckily  here,  as  at 
several  places  farther  on,  we  "  seven  poor  travel- 
lers "  were  sufferers  from  the  untimely  and  un- 
bounded hilarity  of  a  large,  conglomerate  party 
of  tourists,  mostly  from  Chicago  and  St.  Louis. 
These  young  and  joyous  creatures  never  sub- 
sided into  dull  slumber  till  some  time  in  the 
small  hours.  To  their  ordinary  nocturnal  diver- 
sions of  dancing,  singing,  laughing,  and  whistling, 
they  occasionally  added  the  unparalleled  atrocity 
of  the  accordeon. 

This  party  afterward  came  to  grief  in  various 
ways,  as  all  large  parties  are  like  to  do,  and 
all  extravagantly  gay  parties  are  sure  to  do,  on 
this  grand  but  difficult  and  trying  trip.  It  is  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  most  beautiful  but  awful,  holy 
places  of  Nature,  her  long  secret,  inaccessible 
shrines,  and  should  be  undertaken  with  at  least 
a  decorous  seriousness  and  something  of  thought- 
ful and  intelligent  preparation.  Cheerfulness  is, 
of  course,  desirable,  for  one's  patience  and  cour- 
age may  be  severely  taxed  all  through  the  ex- 
pedition, and  good-humor  and  good  sense  are 
absolutely    essential    to    anything    like    enjoyment 


PILGRIMS     FIT     FOR     THE     PILGRIMAGE.  305 

of    the   trip.     At    the   beginning   I  would  say,  Let 
all     mere     lovers     of     pleasure,    fond    of    benders 
and    unbenders,    all    bon    vivants,    all    dainty    and 
dandiacal   people,   all   aged,    timid,    and  feeble   peo- 
ple,  all   people    without    a   disciplined    imagination, 
keep   away    from    the    Yosemite.     The    entire   trip 
will   prove    to     all   such    a    disappointment    and    a 
drag,   weariness,    and   hardship,    and   the   valley    it- 
self   a   great   hollow   mockery   of    wild,    vague,    ex- 
travagant   hopes,  —  the    biggest    man-trap    of    the 
world.     When    you    hear    a    traveller    ask    of    the 
Yosemite,     "  Does     it     pay  ? "    you    may   set     him 
down   as  not   fit   to   go    there.     But    to    men    and 
women    of    simple    minds,   to     healthy,    happy    na- 
tures,   to    brave   and    reverential     souls,   in    sound, 
unpampered     bodies,     to    "spirits     finely    touched," 
I  would    say    at    the    beginning   and    finally.    Come 
to    the    Yosemite,     though    you     have     compassed 
the   world   all    but    this  ;    come    for   the    crowning 
joy  of    years   of    pleasant    travel  ;    come    and    see 
what   Nature,  high-priestess  of  God,   has    prepared 
for    them    who    love    her,    in    the    white    heights 
and    dark    depths     of     the    Sierras,     in    the    pro- 
found   valley     itself,    the     temple    of    her    ancient 


306  CALIFORNIA. 


worship,  with  thunderous  cataracts  for  organs, 
and  silver  cascades  for  choirs,  and  wreathing 
clouds  of  spray  for  perpetual  incense,  and  rocks 
three   thousand   feet   high   for   altars. 

The  stage-ride  from  Merced  over  the  plain  to 
the  foot-hills  was  not  tedious,  for  the  road  led 
through  magnificent  golden  grain-fields,  ready  for 
harvest  ;  but  we  were  not  sorry  to  reach  the 
rising  ground  and  the  shade  of  woods.  Hornitos 
was  our  dining-place,  —  a  place  to  be  remembered 
for  its  nice  hotel  and  nicer  landlady.  The  drive 
from  this  point  to  Mariposa  is  quite  delightful, 
the  air  as  you  ascend  becoming  purer,  and  the 
way  more  green  and  flowery.  At  Mariposa  we 
were  obliged  to  wait,  with  another  party  of  tour- 
ists, some  five  hours,  till  coaches  should  come 
down  from  White  and  Hatch's,  —  the  powerful 
Chicago  and  St.  Louis  combination  having  swept 
all  before  it.  The  little  old  mining  town,  so 
long  associated  with  the  fame  and  fortunes  of 
General  Fremont,  has  now  but  a  dismal  and  dilapi- 
dated look,  though  it  is  said  business  is  reviv- 
ing  there   somewhat. 

We    quickly    looked    up    all    there    was    to    be 


A    GRANT    MEETING.  307 


seen  in  the  town,  and  were  reduced  to  extremi- 
ties for  amusement.  Finally,  we  observed  that 
something  unusual  was  going  on  in  the  office  of 
a  justice  of  the  peace,  contiguous  to  the  hotel, — 
something  interesting  to  young  Mariposans.  In 
fact,  preparations  were  being  made  in  those  nar- 
row and  awful  precincts  for  an  exhibition,  by  a 
band  of  "  champion  minstrels  "  and  a  "  celebrated 
female  contortionist,"  —  not  a  singer  but  an  acrobat. 
We  strolled  into  the  place,  and  found  a  few 
benches  arranged  for  the  generous  public  ;  a  stage 
was  partitioned  off  from  the  auditorium  by  a  row 
of  tallow  candles  in  tin  candlesticks,  and  backed 
by  a  mysterious  green  curtain.  That  stage  and  the 
vacant  hall  were  somewhat  suggestive  and  tempt- 
ing to  the  male  portion  of  our  party  of  idle 
tourists,  who  proceeded  to  organize  a  Grant  meet- 
ing on  the  spot.  One  gentleman,  a  Boston  offi- 
cial, who,  though  a  Grant  man,  controls  a  good 
many  Democratic  votes  (he  having  charge  of 
the  city  jail),  made  a  rousing  speech,  and  was 
followed  by  other  orators.  The  entire  burden  of 
the  laughter  and  applause  did  not  fall  upon  us, 
for   the  occasion   had   called   into   the   hall   a  mot- 


3o8  CALIFORNIA. 


ley  little  "  cloud  of  witnesses,"  —  two  or  three 
miners  and  drovers,  several  small  boys,  a  Mexi- 
can mule -driver,  a  Digger  Indian,  and  a  China- 
man. A  happy  unanimity  seemed  to  prevail  in 
our  meeting.  One  English  traveller,  late  of  the 
army,  on  whose  military  stomach  the  undigested 
Alabama  matter  evidently  set  hard,  stood  proudly 
neutral ;  but  all  the  others,  from  the  sheriff  of 
Boston  and  the  rich  shoe-dealer  of  Lynn  down  to 
the  small  boys  of  Mariposa,  the  Chinaman,  the 
Greaser,  the  Digger,  and  the  women,  were  loyal 
to  the  administration.  Yet,  no :  there  was  one 
hardy,  grizzly  old  miner,  with  a  throat  like  a 
hoisting -shaft  and  a  fist  like  a  quartz  -  crusher, 
who  swung  his  dilapidated  gray  hat,  which,  per- 
haps, once  was  white,  and  hurrahed  for  "  honest 
old  Horace  Greeley."  I  think  Mr.  Greeley  would 
have  been  gratified  by  this  brave  demonstration 
in  the  face  of  an  arrogant  majority.  Even  we  were 
touched  by  it,  and  a  hush  fell  on  the  gay  assem- 
bly ;  but  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  add  that  one  of 
our  party,  who  had  been  in  the  bar-room  and 
knew  whereof  he  affirmed,  declared  the  gallant 
minority  to  be  in  a  state  of  semi-inebriation.     The 


BEFORE    THE    PERFORMANCE.  309 

minstrels  in  undress  here  aiopeared  from  behind 
the  curtain,  greeted  us  courteously,  confided  to 
us  that  they  were  gentlemen  doing  a  little  min- 
strelsy for  the  adventure  of  the  thing,  declared 
for  Grant,  and  solicited  the  honor  of  our  patronage 
for  the  evening. 

As  we  looked  every  minute  for  the  coaches,  we 
dared  hold  out  no  hopes  to  our  patriotic  friends, 
and  we  almost  grieved,  when  came  still  evening  on 
and  twilight  gray,  to  see  them  hurrying  hither  and 
thither  to  procure  for  us  arm-chairs,  which  they 
placed  before  the  rude  benches  provided  for  the 
common  people.  I  am  afraid  that,  gentle  Bohe- 
mians and  good  Grant  men  though  they  were,  they 
prayed  for  our  detention  at  Mariposa  that  night ; 
and  I  must  confess  to  an  amiable  desire  to  listen 
to  their  wild  warblings  and  to  see  their  wilder  au- 
dience. I  even  felt  that  I  could  smile  on  the 
modest  efforts  of  the  female  contortionist,  it  being 
my  principle  to  encourage  woman  in  entering  on 
new  careers  of  fame  and  emolument,  and  knowing, 
as  I  do,  to  what  turns  and  twists  feminine  genius 
is  driven  by  cruel  disabilities.  Strange  what  an 
interest  we  all  took  in  the  gathering  of  that  small 


310  CALIFORNIA. 


audience.  An  infant  drummer  stood  at  the  door, 
and  drummed  vigorously ;  but  recruits  came  in 
slowly.  I,  having  been  in  the  show-business  a  lit- 
tle myself,  was  the  most  sympathetic.  I  strolled 
carelessly  up  and  down  the  sidewalk  with  a  friend, 
reconnoitring,  returning  now  and  then  to  the  pi- 
azza of  the  hotel  with  reports  like  these :  "  A  force 
of  one  old  miner  just  marched  in,"  "A  woman 
with  a  baby  in  arms,"  "  A  small  detachment  of 
boys,"  "A  file  of  servant-girls,"  "A  squad  of  infantry 
commanded  by  papa  and  mamma,"  "A  reinforce- 
ment of  grandma,"  "A  rear-guard  of  ranchmen  and 
Greasers." 

Our  coaches  arrived,  but  it  was  announced  that 
they  would  not  be  ready  to  leave  before  nine  o'clock. 
During  that  half-hour  we  could  see  something  of 
the  performance.  A  commutation  of  half  price  was 
proffered,  and  we  went  in,  —  that  is,  a  select  few 
of  us.  We  declined  the  reserved  seats,  and  quietly 
sat  down  on  one  of  the  benches  among  the  peo- 
ple. We  felt  democratic.  We  fellowshipped  the 
rough  miner,  the  ranchman, ,  the  Mexican  mule- 
driver,  even  the  Greeley ite.  We  could  have  tol- 
erated, at  a  distance,  the  stern  and  haughty  Dig- 


THE    CHAMPION    MINSTRELS.         .  311 

ger,  rightful  sovereign  of  the  soil,  whose  name  is 
a  misnomer,  for  he  toils  not  neither  does  he  dig. 
The  orchestra  chairs  we  had  declined  did  not  re- 
main unoccupied.  Eight  small  girls  in  their  Sun- 
day best  entered  the  hall,  with  an  imposing  rustle 
of  starched  ruffles,  came  calmly  forward,  and  filed 
into  those  seats  of  honor.  There  was  more  room 
than  their  small  crinolines  could  fill ;  their  little 
feet  dangled  uncomfortably ;  but  they  sat  erect, 
stately,  and  solemn,  as  so  many  delegates  to  a 
female-suffrage  convention,  gazing  intently  at  the 
curtain  throbbing  with  dark  dramatic  mysteries. 
At  last  it  was  drawn  aside,  and  tlie  minstrels  ap- 
peared, bowed  graciously,  and  set  to  work.  Every 
role  was  duly  filled  ;  there  was  the  aggravating 
conundrum-man,  and  the  proper  middle-man,  and 
the  funny  end-man,  who  played  on  the  tambourine 
with  his  knees  and  his  heels  and  his  nose,  and 
banged  it  against  his  head,  till  he  struck  fire  from 
his  wild,  rolling  eyes.  It  was  curious  to  watch  the 
effect  this  personage  produced  on  a  row  of  small 
boys  just  at  his  left.  They  watched  him  with  rapt, 
unsmiling  eagerness,  unconsciously  imitating  every 
grimace  and  contortion  of  his  countenance.     It  was 


312  .  CALIFORNIA. 


as  good  as  a  play  to  watch  the  little  chaps.  As  the 
one  door  of  the  hall  was  closed  with  jealous  haste, 
and  the  shutters  of  the  one  window  inexorably 
barred  against  the  crowd  of  impecunious  Peris  out- 
side, the  air  within  was,  to  say  the  least,  not  bra- 
cing. So,  when  summoned  to  our  coach,  we  were 
quite  resigned  to  go,  even  though  the  fair  star 
of  the  evening  had  not  appeared.  We  shall  all, 
I  am  sure,  long  remember  with  a  gentle  human 
interest  that  melancholy  row  of  minstrels,  and  their 
serious  little  audience. 

We  had  a  rather  anxious  night-ride  of  twelve 
miles,  over  a  rough  road,  through  streams  and  gul- 
lies, and  along  steep,  rocky  caiions,  to  the  hotel  of 
White  and  Hatch,  which  we  did  not  reach  till  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  But  the  mountain  air  be- 
gan to  tell  on  us ;  and  after  a  brief  sleep  and  a 
good  breakfast  we  were  in  condition  thoroughly 
to  enjoy  the  superb  forest  ride,  up  the  Chouchilla 
Creek,  over  the  Divide,  and  down,  by  a  descent  of 
nearly  three  thousand  feet,  to  the  end  of  the  stage- 
road,  the  famous  ranch  of  Clark  and  Moore,  on  the 
South  Merced,  —  a  lovely,  lonely,  piny,  primitive 
place,  with  a  peculiarly  peaceful,  restful  atmosphere 


"the   way   the    ladies    ride.  ;)i;;^ 

pervading  it.  Here  we  were  received  with  simple, 
hearty  cordiality,  and  proffered  the  freedom  of  the 
Sierras  and  the  ranch  ;  here  we  were  entirely  com- 
fortable and  very  happy  throughout  our  too  brief 
stay.  The  only  drawback  to  the  enjoyment  cf  the 
ladies  of  our  party  was  the  discovery  that  the 
great  Chicago  monopoly  had,  by  the  means  of  an 
avant-coiirier  despatched  before  daylight  on  a  fiery 
mule,  secured  all  the  side-saddles,  and  that  we 
must  tarry  there  indefinitely,  or  take  to  the  Mexi- 
can saddle,  and  riding  en  cavalier,  both  for  our 
excursion  to  the  Big  Trees  and  our  longer  jour- 
ney into  the  valley.  So,  with  a  tear  for  the  mod- 
est traditions  of  our  sex,  and  a  shudder  at  the 
thought  of  the  figures  we  should  present,  we  four 
brave  women  accepted  the  situation,  and,  for  the 
nonce,  rode  as  woman  used  to  ride  in  her  happy, 
heroic  days,  before  Satan,  for  her  entanglement 
and  enslavement,  invented  trained  skirts,  corsets,  and 
side-saddles.  We  were  fortunately  provided  with 
strong  mountain  suits  of  dark  flannel  and  water- 
proof, which  fitted  us  for  this  emergency,  and  for 
any  rough  climbing  we  had  a  fancy  for  ;  and 
that  was  not  a  little.  Well,  after  a  trial  of  some 
14 


3^4 


CALIFORNIA. 


fifteen  miles  the  first  day  and  twenty-six  the  sec- 
ond, we  all  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  style 
of  riding  is  the  safest,  easiest,  and  therefore  the 
most  sensible,  for  long  mountain  expeditions,  and 
for  steep,  rough,  and  narrow  trails.  If  Nature  in- 
tended woman  to  ride  horseback  at  all,  she  doubt- 
less intended  it  should  be  after  this  fashion,  other- 
wise we  should  have  been  a  sort  of  land  variety 
of  the  mermaid. 

Though  the  days  were  warm  in  that  charming 
resting-place,  beside  the  unresting  Merced,  the 
nights  were  very  cool ;  and  a  bright  camp-fire  in 
front  of  the  hotel  was  surrounded  till  a  late  hour 
by  a  circle  of  tourists,  guides,  pack-mule  men, 
and  stage-drivers.  We  took  to  reciting  ballads  and 
telling  stories.  Of  the  latter,  the  most  horrible 
and  hair-elevating  sort  were  at  a  premium.  There 
was  a  generous  and  amiable  strife  as  to  who  should 
contribute  most  to  the  general  discomfort,  and  pro- 
duce the  most  startling  and  blood-curdling  effects. 
The  English  ex-officer  carried  off  the  palm.  His 
story,  told  in  a  characteristically  cool  way,  so 
chilled  us  with  horror  that  we  drew  closer  around 
the  camp-fire,  and  shuddered  audibly.     Just  a  little 


THE    MARIPOSA    GROVE.  315 


way  off,  under  the  pines,  was  a  cluster  of  wig- 
wams, and  the  camp-fire  of  the  bloody  Diggers, — 
howling  fitfully  that  night  over  the  bear-skin  couch 
of  a  venerable  savage,  said  to  be  over  a  hundred 
years  old,  and  dying  without  benefit  of  clergy. 
Ah !  how  novel  and  wild  and  primitive  and  de- 
lightful it  all  was  i 

By  the  way,  the  old  Indian  did  n't  die  after  all 
the  ado.  He  was  only  testing  the  affection  of  his 
heirs. 

The  Mariposa  grove  of  Big  Trees  is  about  six 
miles  from  Clark's,  up  a  trail  somewhat  rough,  but 
leading  through  forests  of  great  beauty.  Many  of 
the  pines  along  our  way  were  of  imposing  breadth 
and  height,  but  the  first  regular  Sequoia  Gigantea 
we  came  upon  was  lying  prone  upon  the  earth, 
that  had  yielded  to  him,  when  he  fell,  almost  as 
the  sea  gives  place  to  the  hull  of  a  great  ship. 
This  mighty  recumbent  shape,  whose  battles  with 
winds  and  tempests  are  over  forever,  is  a  majestic 
image  of  repose  and  release.  What  ephemeral 
creatures  we  seemed  beside  that  scarred  and  mould- 
ering trunk,  on  the  tender  green  of  whose  young 
branches    had    glistened    the    dews    of    the    night 


3l6  CALIFORNIA. 


which  was  the  shadow  of  the  most  blessed  day  of 
the  world, — the  day  that  dawned  in  Judaea,  under 
the  watching  of  angels  and  the  singing  of  stars. 
Wild  races  had  passed  away  under  his  shadow  ; 
he  had  greatened  and  towered,  waited  through 
the  slow  cycles,  and  decayed  and  fallen  before  the 
spiritual  light  of  that  dawning  reached  the  dim 
solitudes  of  the  vast  Sierras. 

The  largest  of  these  Mariposa  trees  is  The 
Grizzly  Giant,  but  perhaps  the  most  satisfactory 
is  The  Faithful  Couple,  —  one  solid  tree  at  the 
base,  but  separating  at  the  height  of  about  forty 
feet  into  two  equally  fine  Sequoias.  Some  of 
our  party  saw  in  it,  or  them,  a  type  of  an  un- 
suitable early  marriage,  followed  by  divergence 
and  divorce  ;  others  saw  a  type  of  perfect  wed- 
ded life  and  love,  rooted  and  grounded  in 
equality  and  assimilation,  starting  as  one,  but, 
with  a  higher  development,  asserting  a  nobler 
independence  and  individuality.  And  so  we  spec- 
ulated and  discussed,  while  taking  our  lunch  in 
the  dual  shade  of  this  new -world  Baucis  and 
Philemon.  We  visited,  I  believe,  all  the  groups 
and   solitary  big   trees    of    the   great   grove,   riding 


MONARCHS    OF    THE     FOREST.  317 

in  solemn  procession  through  two  hollow  trunks, 
—  one  standing,  and  one  fallen.  This  proceeding 
undoubtedly  gives  one  the  most  accurate  idea  of 
the  diameter  of  the  trunks  ;  but  for  a  full  real- 
ization of  the  height  of  any  one  of  the  finest 
standing  trees,  of  the  grand  grip  it  has  on  the 
earth,  there  is  nothing  like  lying  on  your  back 
and  looking  up  to  its  huge,  immovable  lower 
limbs,  up,  up,  to  where  its  tapering  bole  and 
highest  branches  stand  above  the  ordinary  green 
level  of  the  forest  tree-tops,  like  the  mast  and 
spars  of  a  great  ship  sunken  in  a  shallow  sea. 

Grander  and  grander  they  grow  to  you,  these 
sombre,  Titanic  shapes,  the  longer  you  linger 
and  look ;  and  you  feel  that  you  shall  never 
quite  pass  out  from  their  solemnizing  shadow, 
that  fell  on  you  like  the  shadow  of  the  great 
past.  Some  of  the  stateliest  trees  are  named  for 
our  poets.  One  noble  trunk  bears  on  it  the 
name  of  Whittier.  So  simple  yet  grand  a  me- 
morial of  his  character  and  genius  is  most  fit- 
ting. Long  may  it  keep  his  dear  memory  green. 
Only  think,  it  may  have  been  a  middle-aged 
tree   in   Chaucer's   time ! 


3l8  CALIFORNIA. 


Before  we  left  the  haunted  forest,  we  were 
conducted  by  our  pleasant  guide  to  a  high, 
beetling  cliff,  a  favorite  perch  of  Bierstadt's, 
from  which  we  had  an  enchanting  view  of  the 
lovely  Merced  Valley,  with  emerald-green  meadows 
and  waters  flashing  to  the  sun  ;  and  what  a  setting 
were  the  mountains  for  the  wondrous   picture ! 

Early  the  next  morning  we  were  mounted 
and  away,  eager  for  the  Yosemite,  yet  reluctant- 
ly taking  leave  of  our  hosts,  Clark  and  Moore, 
both  very  interesting  men,  mountaineers  of  the 
best  type,  —  and  their  kindly  household.  Mr. 
Moore  walked  out  with  us  some  little  distance, 
and  blessed  us  with  his  pleasant  blue  eyes,  as 
he  said  good-by. 

Perhaps  it  is  well  that  I  feel  the  impossibility 
of  describing  that  day's  journey,  —  the  wild  and 
constantly  varying  scenery,  the  strange  shrubs 
and  flowers,  the  rocky  steeps,  the  mountain  tor- 
rents, the  snow-banks,  the  bogs,  over  which  led 
our  narrow  trail,  the  heaven  of  blue  deeps  and 
fleecy  clouds  far  above  us,  the  half-way  heaven 
of  snowy  peaks  and  shining  domes.  It  was  a 
wondrous   day  to   live  and   to   remember. 


RIDERS    AND    GUIDE.  319 

As  we  jogged  along,  single  file,  we  formed  an 
odd,  but  not  a  very  picturesque  procession.  Still, 
we  had  our  dash  of  color,  —  one  bright,  graceful 
object  in  our  moving  picture.  A  lady  of  our 
party,  a  fair  young  girl  from  Boston,  was  charm- 
ingly dressed,  for  effect  among  the  dim  woods 
and  gray  rocks.  Her  short  Yosemite  suit  was 
black,  trimmed  with  scarlet,  a  long  scarlet  sash 
falling  at  the  left  side ;  to  her  straw  hat  was 
attached  a  blue,  floating  veil ;  her  long,  boun- 
teous golden  hair,  all  her  own,  fell  in  heavy 
braids,  tied  with  blue  ribbons.  Mounted  on  a 
white  horse,  riding  with  quiet  grace,  she  was  a 
perpetual  delight  to  the  eye,  quite  illuminating 
our   dull    cavalcade. 

We  found  our  guide  —  Peter  Gordon,  at  your 
service !  a  remarkably  agreeable  young  man  — 
modest,  but  not  averse  to  imparting  information. 
I  kept  near  him  most  of  the  time,  plying  him 
with  questions.  His  patience  was  also  severely 
tried  by  our  pack-mule,  a  diminutive  animal,  so 
built  on  and  about  by  valises,  carpet-bags,  and 
bundles,  that  of  the  original  structure  only  four 
slender    piers   and    two    turrets    were   visible,   from 


^20  CALIFORNIA. 


the  rear,  at  least.  The  poor  brute  had  a  mild, 
melancholy  face,  but  was  of  perverse  and  erratic 
tendencies.  He  seized  upon  every  opportunity  to 
leave  the  trail  and  go  off  prospecting.  When 
brought  back,  by  shouts  and  blows,  to  the  path 
of  rectitude  and  the  Yosemite,  his  countenance 
always  wore  a  touching  look  of  humility  and 
penitence,  that  seemed   to   say, 

"Prone  to  wander,  Lord,  I  feel  it." 

We  dined,  and  dined  sumptuously,  at  Paragoy's, 
the  new  half-way  house,  set  under  the  pines,  in 
the  greenest  of  mountain  meadows,  with  melting 
snows  and  rushing  streams  about  it,  and  grand 
white-headed  mountains  above  it.  I  think  tour- 
ists, for  whom  the  delay  is  possible,  should 
spend  the  night  here,  and  go  into  the  valley 
in    the   morning. 

Only  a  few  miles  from  Paragoy's,  and  we 
were  on  Inspiration  Point,  looking  down  on  the 
mighty  Mecca  of  our  pilgrimage,  —  on  awful 
depth  and  vastness,  wedded  to  unimagined 
brightness  and  loveliness,  —  a  sight  that  appalled, 
while  it  attracted ;  a  sublime  terror ;  a  beautiful 
abyss  ;   the   valley   of  the   shadow   of  God  ! 


THE    VALLEY    WONDERFUL.  32I 


It  seemed  to  me  as  I  gazed,  that  here  was 
Nature's  last,  most  cunning  hiding-place  for  her 
utmost  sublimities,  her  rarest  splendors.  Here 
she  had  worked  her  divinest  miracles  with 
water  and  sunlight,  —  lake,  river,  cataract,  cas- 
cade, spray,  mist,  and  rainbows  by  the  thousand. 
It  was  but  a  little  strip  of  smiling  earth  to 
look  down  on,  after  all  ;  but  ah !  the  stupen- 
dousness  of  its  surroundings  !  There  were  arched 
and  pillared  rocks,  so  massive,  so  immense,  it 
seemed  they  might  have  formed  the  foundation- 
walls  of  a  continent  ;  and  domes  so  vast  they 
seemed  like  young  worlds  rounding   out   of   chaos. 

The  trail  down  from  Inspiration  Point  is  steep, 
rough,  and  somewhat  perilous  for  inexperienced 
riders ;  but  I  prefer  it,  for  its  variety,  and  cool, 
shadowy  places,  to  the  shorter  new  trail  by  Glacier 
Point,  which  is  wide,  even,  monotonously  good, 
and  almost  wholly  without  shade.  On  our  way 
down,  our  guide  pointed  out  to  us  a  large  hollow 
tree  fitted  up  with  modern  conveniences,  in  which 
a  real  hermit  had  kept  house  for  some  years.  Dis- 
appointed in  love  or  politics,  he  retired  from  the 
world  to  this  rather  public  spot,  where,  finally,  he 
14*  u 


CALIFORNIA. 


died  by  his  own  hand.     He  left  a  large  trunk,  but 
with  little  in  it. 

This  trail  enters  the  valley  near  the  Bridal  Veil. 
Beautiful  Pohono  had  dressed  herself  royally  in 
rainbows  to  receive  us.  The  sight  of  this  fall,  in 
the  height  of  its  summer  glory,  and  the  surpassing 
loveliness  of  the  valley  through  all  the  five  miles 
that  remained  for  us  to  ride,  charmed  away  our 
fatigue  and  restored  us  to  vigor  and  gayety.  We 
forded  countless  streams,  cold  as  snow  and  bright 
as  sunshine  ;  we  passed  through  forests  of  bloom- 
ins:  azaleas  and  sweet  wild  roses  and  wondrous 
ferns,  grand  natural  parks  of  oak  and  cedar,  groves 
and  avenues  of  locusts  and  pines,  —  indeed,  of  all 
sorts  of  trees  ;  for  the  variety  of  foliage  in  the  val- 
ley is  wonderful.  Much  of  the  way  we  rode  along 
the  rapid  Merced,  a  passionate,  tumultuous  stream, 
pushed  on  by  cataracts.  We  readily  recognized 
all  the  great  rocks,  from  Watkins's  magnificent  pho- 
tographs, —  the  Sentinel,  the  Three  Graces,  the 
Cathedral  Spires,  the  Three  Brothers,  and  El 
Capitan,  bluff  and  lordly,  shouldering  his  way  to 
the  front.  At  the  second  hotel  —  Black's  —  dear 
friends  ran  out  to  meet  us  with  a  joyous  greeting, 


AN     UNEXPECTED    SYBARIS.  323 

and  we  felt  at  home  even  before  we  reached  our 
pleasant  quarters  at  the  Hutchings  House,  and  re- 
ceived from  Mr.  Hutchings  the  hearty,  happy  wel- 
come he  so  well  knows  how  to  give. 

It  was  wonderful  to  us,  if  not  to  others,  how 
comparatively  fresh  we  were  after  a  day  of  un- 
precedented fatigue  and  excitement.  There  must 
be  some  magic  of  stimulus  and  sustainment  in  the 
air  of  the  Sierras.  A  good  supper  and  good  com- 
pany further  cheered  and  supported  us,  and,  last 
of  all,  before  sleep,  there  was  for  us  absolute  physi- 
cal rejuvenation  in  the  warm  baths  of  the  Cosmo- 
politan Saloon,  just  opposite  our  cottage.  Here  we 
were  astonished  to  find  —  when  we  had  expected 
to  rough  it  —  absolutely  sybaritic  arrangements,  — 
large,  bright  bathing-rooms  ;  spacious  tubs,  exquis- 
itely clean  ;  a  limitless  supply  of  pure,  soft  water ; 
towels,  fine  and  coarse,  in  profusion  ;  delicate 
toilet- soaps  ;  bottles  of  bay  rum  ;  Florida  water 
and  arnica,  court-plaster,  pins,  needles,  thread,  and 
buttons,  for  repairing  dilapidations ;  and  late 
Altas  and  Bulletins  for  fresh  "bustles."  The 
floors  are  all  handsomely  carpeted,  the  walls  are 
hung  with  delicate  paper,   and  decorated  with  pic- 


324  CALIFORNIA. 


tures  and  mirrors,  and  cornices  are  daintily  gilded. 
Here,  after  all  our  long  excursions,  hard  rides,  and 
harder  climbs,  we  took  baths  of  balm,  of  delicious 
soothing  and  healing.  To  find  such  luxury  and 
comfort  in  the  awful  sunken  fastness  of  this  valley 
seems  something  absolutely  marvelous,  the  work 
of  enchantment  ;  but  the  magical  agencies  have 
been  only  keen  business  foresight,  energy,  pluck, 
perseverance,  and  pack-mules. 

To  future  Yosemite  pilgrims,  I  would  com- 
mend the  brave,  benevolent  young  proprietor  of 
this  establishment.  I  hope  they  will  be  careful 
accurately  to  remember  his  name.  It  is  Smith,  — 
John  Smith.  The  pilgrims  that  have  been  here 
this  year  will  be  in  no  danger  of  forgetting  it,  or 
confounding  it  with  Jones,  Brown,  or  Robinson. 


The  Yosemite  Falls  proper,  whose  entire  descent 
is  over  twenty-six  hundred  feet,  is  immediately  in 
front  of  the  Hutchings  Hotel,  on  the  north  side 
of  the  valley.  Of  course,  from  below,  you  can  see 
nothing  of  the  Yosemite  Creek.  It  looks  as  though 
it  was  a  cataract  from   the  start,  born   of  the  sky 


OPPOSITE     THE     GREAT     FALL.  325 

and  the  precipice.  The  roar  of  this  king  of  water- 
falls, in  his  grandest  times,  has  a  singular  dual 
character ;  there  is  the  eternal  monotone,  always 
distinct,  though  broken  in  upon  by  an  irregular 
crash  and  boom,  —  a  sort  of  gusty  thunder.  This 
composite  sound,  so  changing  and  unchanging, 
floods  and  shakes  the  air,  like  the  roar  of  the 
deep  sea  and  the  breaking  of  surf  on  a  rocky 
shore. 

On  my  first  night  in  the  valley,  the  strangeness 
of  my  surroundings,  a  sort  of  sombre  delight  that 
took  possession  of  me,  would  not  let  me  sleep  for 
several  hours.  Once  I  rose  and  looked  out,  or 
tried  to  look  out.  The  sky  was  clouded ;  it  seemed 
to  me  the  stars  drew  back  from  the  abyss. 
It  was  filled  with  night  and  sound.  I  could  not 
see  the  mighty  rocks  that  walled  us  in,  but  a 
sense  of  their  shadow  was  upon  me.  There  was 
in  the  awe  I  felt  no  element  of  real  dread  or 
fear,  but  it  was  thrilled  by  fantastic  terrors.  I 
thought  of  Whitney's  theory  of  the  formation  of 
the  great  pit,  by  subsidence.  What  if  it  should 
take  another  start  in  the  night,  and  settle  a  mile 
or   two   with   us,     leaving    the    trail     by   which   we 


326  CALIFORNIA. 


descended,  dangling  in  the  air,  and  the  cataracts 
all  spouting  away,  with  no  outlet !  But  in  the 
morning  the  jolly  sun  peered  down  upon  us, 
laughing,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  There  you  are, 
are  you  ? "  and  the  sweet,  cool  winds  dipped  down 
from  the  pines  and  the  snows,  the  great  fall 
shouted  and  danced  all  the  way  down  his  stu- 
pendous rocky  stairway,  the  river,  and  overflowed 
meadows  rippled  and  flashed  with  immortal  glee. 
It  seems  to  me  that  darkness  is  darker  and  light 
lighter  in  the  Yosemite  than  anywhere  else  on 
earth. 

Yet,  in  the  midst  of  its  utmost  brightness  and 
beauty,  you  are  more  or  less  oppressed  with  a 
realization  of  some  sudden  convulsion  of  nature, 
that  here  rent  the  rocks  asunder,  that  shook  the 
massive  mountain  land  till  the  bottom  dropped 
out  ;  or  of  the  mighty  force  of  drifting,  driving 
glaciers,  grinding,  carving,  just  ploughing  their  way 
down  from  the  High  Sierra,  leaving  this  stu- 
pendous furrow  behind  them.  Somehow  you  feel 
that  Nature  has  not  done  with  this  place  yet. 
Such  a  grand,  abandoned  workshop  invites  her 
to   return.     The  stage   of  this   great  tragic    theatre 


THE     FORTRESS    OF    THE    GODS.  327 


of  the  elements  waits,  perhaps,  for  some  terrible 
afterpiece.  But  it  may  be  a  comedy  after  all, — 
horse-railroads  and  trotting-tracks,  hacks  and  hand- 
organs,  Saratoga  trunks  and  croquet  parties,  ele- 
vators running  up  the  face  of  El  Capitan,  the 
Domes  plastered  over  with  circus  bills  and  adver- 
tisements of  "Plantation    Bitters." 

There  is  here,  at  first,  a  haunting  sense  of  im- 
prisonment, though  on  a  grand  scale,  of  course. 
You  feel  like  a  magnificent  felon,  incarcerated  in 
the  very   fortress   of  the   gods. 

The  outside  world  seems  very  far  away,  and 
even  recent  events  grow  indistinct.  There  is  an 
impertinent  telegraph-wire  that  comes  into  the 
valley,  but  I  fancy  it  does  little  business.  There 
is  no  regular  mail,  and  few  letters  are  written 
or  received.  As  for  newspapers,  I  found  only 
one  or  two  in  the  hotel  parlor.  They  told  all 
about  the  snow  blockade.  We  hardly  knew  Sun- 
day when  it  came  round.  We  were  dropped  into 
the  bosom  of  Mother  Earth,  out  of  the  old  life 
of  thought  and  feeling,  out  of  business,  fashion, 
and  politics.  We  could  hardly  tell  whether  it 
was    Horace    Greeley,   or     Horatio     Seymour,   or   a 


328  CALIFORNIA. 


man  by  the  name  of  Davis,  who  was  nominated 
at  Cincinnati.  The  news  of  the  Philadelphia  nom- 
inations came  to  us  incidentally,  via  Honolulu, 
that  is,  we  were  told  it  by  Consul  Mattoon,  just 
from  the  islands.  This  sense  of  isolation  inclines 
people  to  be  social  and  kindly.  Petty  convention- 
alities are  left  outside  the  grand  walls.  Tourists 
who  have  not  been  introduced,  fall  into  conversa- 
tion with  each  other  in  an  easy,  fraternal  way, 
which  I  have  not  found  the  fashion  anywhere 
else  in  democratic  America.  It  is  a  pleasant 
feature  of  life  in  the  valley.  I  found  it  impos- 
sible to  work  here,  or  even  to  talk  fluently  or 
forcibly  on  what  I  knew  about  the  Yosemite. 
The  theme  mastered  me.  I  no.ticed  that  there 
were  few  singing-birds  about,  and  was  told  by 
an  old  guide  that  they,  with  most  animals, 
were  afraid  of  the  valley.  Poetic  thoughts  and 
gay  fancies  seem  struck  with  a  like  fear.  You 
are  for  a  time  mentally  unnerved  ;  but  you  feel 
that  in  your  powerlessness  you  are  gaining 
power ;  in  your  silence,  more  abundant  expres- 
sion. 

The   vague    sense   of    oppression    and    imprison- 


GENERAL     IMPRESSIONS.  329 

ment  I  have  alluded  to,  doubtless  often  drives 
nervous  tourists  from  the  valley  after  so  brief  a 
visit  that  it  must  seem  to  them  ever  after  like 
a  wild,  troubled  dream  of  vast  precipices  and 
domes,  of  dizzy  points,  of  booming  cataracts  and 
roaring  rapids,  of  toiling  up  and  plunging  down 
steep  trails,  on  sore-backed  mules  and  bucking 
bronchos.  In  fact,  the  valley,  in  the  height  of 
its  short  season,  is  a  confused  scene  of  hurry, 
pushing,  and  scrambling.  Horses,  mules,  mustangs, 
and  donkeys  are  burdened  and  goaded,  and  driven 
to  the  last  point  of  endurance,  and  too  often 
beyond.  "All  creation  groaneth  and  iravdletk" 
in  the  Yosemite.  There  is  a  vast  deal  to  be 
seen  hereabouts,^  yet  none  of  the  great  points 
are  very  easy  of  access.  There  is  no  royal  road 
to  them  ;  but  if  tourists  who  are  strong  enough, 
would  give  themselves  a  reasonable  amount  of 
time,  they  would  see  everything  better  by  going  on 
foot  and  sparing  the  wretched  animals  who  now 
stagger  under  them  in  mute  agony,  and,  per- 
haps, execrate  the  picturesque  in  their  meek  souls. 
Some  unhappy  people  you  see  doing  all  the  sights, 
driving    through   all    the   excursions,   with     a    sort 


22,0  CALIFORNIA. 


of  gloomy  desperation,  as  though  obeying  the  in^ 
junction,  "  See  the  Yosemite  and  die,"  or  under 
a  contract  to  return  to  San  Francisco  on  the 
very    next    Friday    and    be   hanged. 

Aside  from  the  multitude  of  tourists  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  constantly  coming  and  going, 
there  is  a  curious  and  picturesque  variety  of  races 
in  the  valley.  Mexicans,  Chinamen,  negroes,  and 
Indians,  Diggers  of  rather  the  better  class,  who 
seem  peculiarly  to  belong  to  the  wild  landscape, 
sad,  though  so  lovely.  The  few  buildings  in  the 
valley  are  of  rather  a  primitive  and  temporary 
character,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  sump- 
tuous Cosmopolitan  Saloon,  very  simply  appointed. 
Of  the  hotel-keepers,  Mr.  Hutchin^s  offers  the  most 
ample  accommodations,  having  three  good  buildings, 
comfortably  furnished.  His  caravansery  continues 
to  be  the  most  popular,  though  there  are  travellers 
who  prefer  the  lower  hotels,  from  gross  consider- 
ations of  appetite.  It  must  be  confessed,  even  by 
his  warmest  friends,  that  Mr.  Hutchings  is  not  an 
epicurean  caterer,  —  not  "high-toned  on  grub,"  to 
use  the  expression  of  an  indignant  California  land- 
lady.    I    do   not   myself  think    that   it   was   in    the 


MR.    HUTCHINGS.  331 

purpose  and  plan  of  the  Divine  economy  that 
Hutchings  should  keep  a  hotel.  There  are  better 
things  which  he  could  do  better.  But  the  man  is 
already  historical ;  his  name  is  wedded  to  that  of 
his  beloved  Yosemite,  and  it  is  not  in  the  power 
of  jealous  rivalry  or  legislative  enactments  to  di- 
vorce them.  He  is  the  recognized  fountain-head 
of  Yosemite  lore,  such  as  intelligent  tourists  like 
to  get  at,  and,  when  from  his  burdensome  cares 
and  bewildering  worriments  he  gets  a  little  time  for 
conversation,  is  a  very  interesting  and  picturesque 
talker. 

Our  first  little  expedition  in  the  valley  was  with 
Mr.  Hutchings,  to  his  garden  and  grounds,  on  the 
north  side  of  the  valley,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
falls.  The  Merced  and  Yosemite  had  so  overflowed 
the  meadows,  that,  just  beyond  the  bridge,  we  were 
obliged  to  take  a  boat,  and  be  rowed  over  by  our 
host,  and  a  young  man  by  the  name  of  Lo.  We 
were  told  that  such  high  water  so  late  in  the  sea- 
son, was  quite  exceptional.  By  the  way,  I  have 
noticed  that  everything  unpleasant,  or  undesirable 
in  California  is  "exceptional." 

As  he  was  to  return  for  a  couple  of  other  friends, 


33^  CALIFORNIA. 


waiting  on  the  bridge,  Mr.  Hutchings  sent  us  three 
pilgrims  (we  know  who)  on  through  the  wicket- 
gate,  and  directly  into  his  fine  strawberry  patch. 
We  justified  his  trust,  and  partook  generously  of 
the  delicious  fruit,  feeling  that  he  should  be  en- 
couraged in  the  culture  of  such  delicacies  in  this 
wild  spot.  We  would  a  little  rather  have  had  them 
gathered  for  us,  though,  for  the  sun  was  "  exception- 
ally "  hot.  On  a  flowery  bank,  under  a  noble  oak, 
we  soon  sought  rest  and  shade.  Here,  where  a 
delicious  breeze  reached  us,  we  revelled  in  the  un- 
speakable loveliness  of  the  scene.  Above,  below, 
on  every  side,  was  the  fullness  of  beauty  and  life, 
—  light,  color,  fragrance,  graceful  motion,  grand  re- 
pose. Here,  while  watching  the  Fall  of  Falls,  the 
steady  plunge  of  the  great  central  column,  the 
ever-varying  swing  and  sway  of  the  silvery  mist 
that  encircled  it  hke  a  garment,  the  peculiar  shoots 
of  tiny  side-streams  and  jets  coming  down  like 
arrows  or  rockets,  —  passing  beautiful;  here,  while 
listening  to  the  many-voiced  shout  of  the  leaping 
waters,  the  shout  that  speaks  alternately  of  joy,  of 
dread,  of  defiance,  and  despair,  we  heard  also,  from 
the  grave  lips  of  the  poet  himself,  Joaquin  Miller's 


POETIC     CONTAGION.  333 

"  Yosemite  Song, " —  a  poem  which  ahnost  expresses 
the  inexpressible.  Perhaps  the  fine  frenzy  was 
catching ;  perhaps  we  are  never  too  old  to  catch 
it  :  certain  it  is,  that  one  of  the  other  three  pil- 
grims, glowing  with  a  mild  poetic  fervor,  here  took 
the  word  and  said,  "Ah,  fellow -pilgrims,  here, 
where  every  sense  is  enthralled  with  beauty  and 
sublimity,  where 

•  The  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory ' ; 

here,  with  the  tremble  of  its  melodious  thunder  in 
the  air  ;  here,  in  this  summer,  enchanted  among 
eternal  snows,  this  smiling  valley,  lapped  in  frown- 
ing sublimities  ;  here,  amid  the  shine  and  shimmer 
and  shade  and  fruitage  and  fragrance,  —  is  Para- 
dise ! " 

As  if  to  make  the  words  true,  to  render  the 
Sunday  picture  scripturally  correct,  just  at  this 
point  the  Serpent  started  up  from  the  grass  and 
the  flowers,  and  came  boldly  into  the  path,  near 
the  gate  through  which  our  host  and  his  friends 
were  just  entering  the  garden.  It  was  an  "excep- 
tional "  rattlesnake  !  Ah !  if  the  "  grand  old  gar- 
dener" of  Eden  had  served  the  father  of  serpents 


334  CALIFORNIA. 


and  lies  as  Mr.  Hatchings  served  this  rash  in- 
truder,.—  mashed  his  head  and  cut  off  his  rattles, 
—  what  a  dififerent  world  we  should  have  had  of 
it  !  Then,  every  first  family  could  have  had  a  Yo- 
semite  to  itself,  —  a  private  Paradise,  with  no  angel 
of  expulsion  to  drive  us  down  the  valley  and  up 
the  trail.  Somehow,  after  that  little  snake  inci- 
dent, we  did  n't  poetize  much,  nor  run  at  large 
about  the  grounds,  for  fear  of  meeting  the  mourn- 
ing widow.     It  was  time  to  go  to  dinner. 

Among  our  visitors  in  the  evening  was  Mr. 
Muir,  the  young  Scottish  mountaineer,  student, 
and  enthusiast,  who  has  taken  sanctuary  in  the 
Yosemite,  who  stays  by  the  variable  valley  with 
marvellous  constancy,  who  adores  her  alike  in 
her  fast,  gay  summer  life  and  solemn  autumn 
glories,  in  her  winter  cold  and  stillness,  and  in 
the  passion  of  her  spring  floods  and  tempests. 
Not  profoundest  snows  can  chill  his  ardor,  not 
earthquakes  can  shake  his  allegiance.  Mr.  Muir 
talks  with  a  quiet,  quaint  humor,  and  a  simple 
eloquence  which  are  quite  delightful.  He  has  a 
clear  blue  eye,  a  firm,  free  step,  and  marvellous 
nerve    and    endurance.     He    has    the    serious    air 


A    GUIDE,    PHILOSOPHER,     AND    FRIEND.        335 

and  unconventional  ways  of  a  man  who  has  been 
much  with  Nature  in  her  grand,  solitary  places. 
That  tourist  is  fortunate  who  can  have  John 
Muir  for  a  guide  in  and  about  the  valley.  He 
will  thus  see  sights  not  set  down  in  the  Yel- 
verton  chronicles,  learn  facts  which  not  even 
the  most  careful  student  of  Olive  Logan  has 
come   at. 

The  scene  at  the  hotel,  on  the  morning  of 
my  second  day,  was  something  memorable.  The 
grounds  and  piazzas  swarmed  with  tourists  and 
guides,  all  demanding  animals  at  once  to  make 
the  excursions  to  Glacier  Point,  or  the  Vernal 
and  Nevada  Falls.  Not  only  were  there  the 
Hutchings  House  people  in  the  crowd,  but 
strangers  from  the  other  hotels,  frantically  dash- 
ing about,  calling  for  horses  like  so  many  Rich- 
ards. Perhaps,  in  his  emergency,  Richard  would 
have  come  down  to  a  mule  ;  it  is  certain  that 
some  of  these  gentlemen  were  glad  to,  after 
swearing  as  he  did,  and  bribing  the  hostler  as 
he  did  n't.  There  is  always  more  or  less  trouble 
here  about  horses,  as  they  are  not  kept  up,  but 
turned    loose    at    night    in    the    wild    pastures,    and 


336  CALIFORNIA. 


have  to  be  lassoed  in  the  morning  by  Indians, 
who  are  not  remarkably  early  risers.  This 
morning  the  demand  greatly  exceeded  the  sup^ 
ply.  All  of  us,  guests  and  interlopers,  "went 
for"  Mr.  Hutchings.  Unhappily,  the  half-distract- 
ed proprietor  did  n't  know  the  sheep  from  the 
goats.  He  frequently  gave  the  wrong  man  the 
right  horse.  He  did  his  best  at  omnipresence 
and  omnipotence  ;  but  nobody  he  wanted  to  see 
could  find  him  at  the  right  moment,  and  nobody 
he  especially  wanted  to  serve  could  he  do  any- 
thing for.  He  was  here,  he  was  there,  he  was 
nowhere.  We  all  mobbed  him,  and  we  all  missed 
him,  —  poor,  kindly,  harassed,  illusive  Mr.  Hutch- 
ings ! 

Out  of  the  difficulties  of  the  horse  question 
grow  minor  difficulties  and  disputes,  which  break 
up  many  a  pleasant  party  in  the  valley.  Ours 
went  to  pieces  very  gently  that  very  morning. 
It  was  inevitable  disintegration.  The  more  for- 
tunate part,  who  got  horses  early,  went  to  Gla- 
cier Point ;  others  went  to  Nevada  Falls  and 
had  a  splendid  dinner,  and  in  the  midst  of  it 
were     called     out    of   doors    by   the    thunder   of    a 


EXCURSIONS.  337 


great  stone  avalanche,  which  came  down  from 
the  Cap  of  Liberty  and  almost  buried  the  hotel. 
It  covered  them  with  dust,  and  they  thought 
it  was  an  earthquake,  or  the  day  of  judgment, 
and  would  n't  have  missed  it  for  anything.  The 
rest  of  us  finally  straggled  off  one  by  one  for 
the  Bridal  Veil,  some  on  foot,  some  on  a  gal- 
lop, —  the  name  we  politely  applied  to  a  Yo- 
semite  animal's  best  speed,  —  a  sort  of  distracted 
walk.  Some  of  us  found  the  place,  others  got 
lost.  The  party  that  got  lost  had  the  lunch- 
basket. 

The  Bridal  Veil  is  my  favorite  Yosemite  cata- 
ract. There  is  for  me  a  tender,  retrospective 
charm  in  the  name.  Just  opposite  to  the  Bridal 
Veil  is  the  lovely  little  trickling  cascade  called 
the  Virgin's  Tears.  Had  the  sight  of  the  float- 
ing, flouting  Veil  anything  to  do  with  that 
lachrymose  condition  ?  We,  who  reached  the 
Veil,  Hngered  about  it  for  hours,  —  read  and 
slept,  botanized  and  shouted  poetry  in  each 
other's  ears.  When  the  rainbows  came,  we  went 
far  up  into  the  very  heart  of  the  splendor.  We 
could  have  jumped  through  the  radiant  hoops 
IS 


338  CALIFORNIA. 


like  circus  performers.  Of  course,  we  got  well 
soaked  with  the  spray,  and  had  to  hang  our- 
selves out  on  the  rocks  to  dry.  Then  we  mount- 
ed and  rode  down  the  valley  and  some  dis- 
tance up  the  trail,  to  meet  the  travellers  coming 
in  from  Clark's.  As  they  came  in  sight,  headed 
by  the  patient  pack-mule  and  our  old  guide, 
Peter  Gordon,  it  was  with  a  certain  agreeable 
sense  of  proprietorship  and  patronage  that  we 
welcomed  them  to  the  valley.  They  looked  ja- 
ded, travel-stained,  and  very  sober ;  but  we 
cheerfully  assured  them  that  the  worst  was  over, 
that  they  had  the  Bridal  Veil  before  them 
(though  they  were  rather  late  for  the  rainbows), 
and  the  glorious  valley,  at  least  five  good  miles 
of  it,  and  a  dozen  or  so  fine  streams  to  ford, 
very  full,  and  only  a  few  bogs  to  cross.  Yes, 
the  hotels  were  crowded,  but  they  could  get 
in  somewhere,  doubtless,  if  they  were  willing  to 
rough  it,  take  up  with  half-rations,  and  beds 
on  the  floor  for  a  while.  It  was  pleasant  to 
be  able  to  cheer  them  up  a  bit.  In  the  late 
twilight,  after  supper,  I  found  two  or  three 
gentlemen     of    this    party    sitting   forlornly   on  the 


EQUESTRIANISM.  339 


hotel  steps,  with  their  modest  Kttle  parcels  be- 
side them,  like  so  many  foundlings,  Mr.  Hutch- 
ings  provided  for  them  in  some  mysterious  way, 
but  they  soon  disappeared  from  our  midst.  They 
endured   but   for   a   day. 

As  a  rider  a  little  difficult  to  please,  I  tried 
many  experiments  while  in  the  valley.  I  rode 
Mr.  Miller's  horse,  and  one  of  Mr.  Muir's.  They 
were  my  Sunday  best.  I  drew  largely  on  Mr. 
Hutchings's  variegated  stud.  I  see-sawed  from 
horse  to  mule.  I  aspired  to  the  refined  precari- 
ousness  of  the  side-saddle,  and  backslid  to  the 
masculine  security  of  the  Mexican  saddle,  with 
its  high  pommel  and  its  long,  roomy  stirrups, 
which  give  one  such  a  certain  hold  on  the  brute. 
However  mounted,  I  found  all  my  old  wild  prac- 
tice in  horseback-riding  tell  in  the  valley,  as 
nowhere  else,  in  a  comfortable,  almost  unconscious 
confidence,  that  left  me  free  to  enjoy  all  I  saw 
and  to  see  all  there  was  to  be  seen.  Many  an 
unhappy  lady  we  saw  utterly  and  anxiously  ab- 
sorbed by  the  spiritless  but  trustworthy  animal 
she  rode.  The  falls  she  looked  for  were  not 
waterfalls,    the   ears   of    her   mule   could    shut   out 


34°  CALIFORNIA. 


the  grandest  prospect.  It  is  important  to  be  well 
mounted,  on  the  expedition  to  Glacier  Point,  as 
the  trail,  though  wide  and  even,  is  a  little  fright- 
ful, winding  as  it  does  almost  up  the  face  of 
Sentinel  Rock,  and  having  many  dizzy  points 
and  sharp  turns.  You  have  to  pay  a  dollar  toll 
for  going  over  this  trail ;  but  it  does  not  seem 
unreasonable,  as  a  temporary  tax  at  least,  when 
you  see  the  amount  of  labor  and  expense  and 
the  enterprise  and  courage  required  to  execute 
this  astonishing  work.  Glacier  Point  is  on  the 
south  side  of  the  valley,  three  thousand  seven 
hundred  feet  above  the  meadows.  It  is  the 
point  that  gives  you  the  finest  comprehensive  view 
of  the  valley,  especially  of  its  upper  waterfalls, 
canons,  and  rocks,  with  vast  views  of  the  High  Si- 
erra. All  the  great  heights  were  pointed  out  to 
us,  —  Mount  Hoffman,  Mount  Lyell,  Mount  Dana, 
Mount  Clark,  and  Mount  Starr  King.  This  last 
had  for  us  a  tender  human  interest.  It  seemed 
a  most  fitting  monument  of  a  noble,  aspiring  life 
and  a  broad,  well-balanced  character,  being  a  sin- 
gularly symmetrical  cone,  steep  and  smooth,  a 
shape   grandly  massive,    but  not   heavy.     It  had  no 


GLACIER     POINT.  341 


clouds,  no  snows  on  its  summit ;  it  was  bathed 
in  sunlight,  like  his  beautiful  beloved  memory. 
It  stands  up  among  the  hoary,  scarred  old  moun- 
tains in  eternal  youth  and  strength,  like  his  un- 
worn and  steadfast  soul.  Its  summit,  though  so 
undefended  by  sharp  peaks  and  threatening  gla- 
ciers, is  absolutely  inaccessible,  like  the  sacred 
heights   of  his   nature,   known   only    of  God. 

The  vast  view  from  Glacier  Point  is  the  despair 
of  poetry  and  art.  Certainly  its  grandeur  can 
never  be  compassed  by  the  grandest  sweep  of 
human  language.  Its  divine  loveliness  floats  for- 
ever before  the  mind,  in  smiling,  radiant  defiance. 
It  is  glory  that  tmist  be  seen ;  it  is  sublimity 
that  must  be  felt ;  it  is  the  "  exceeding  great 
reward "  that  must  be  toiled  for.  Yet  I  would 
not  care  to  linger  long  here,  or  on  the  loftier 
Sentinel  Dome,  near  by.  These  heights  supernal, 
toward  which  the  stars  stoop,  against  which  the 
heavens  trail  their  garments,  are  awesome  places. 
How  dreadful  to  be  alone,  up  here,  at  night, 
with  the  lower  world  all  drowned  in  darkness ! 
Some  of  us  proposed  to  stay  and  see  the  sunset 
from    the    point,    but     the     guides,    more     practical 


342  CALIFORNIA. 


than  poetical  gentlemen,  overruled  us,  fortunately 
perhaps,  for  non  facilis  est  descetisus  into  the 
Yosemite. 

So   ended   my   third   day. 


Perhaps  the   most  delightful   excursion  it    is  pos- 
sible  to   take   in    the    valley    is    the    one    to    the 
Vernal   and  Nevada   Falls.     The   trail   to  these,  up 
the  Merced   Canon,  crosses  the  beautiful  Illilouette 
River  and   several  small,  sparkling  streams,  pierces 
the   green  depths   of  fragrant  woods,  winds  among 
the   massive   rocks,   under   mighty   mountain   walls, 
passes   a   glorious   succession  of  cascades    and  rap- 
ids, and  finally  leads  you  out  into  full  view  of  the 
grand,   green,   columnar   masses  of  the  Vernal  and 
majestic    white    splendor    of    the     Nevada.      Both 
these   falls,   and   the  cascades   between  them,   have 
a    singularly   joyous    look  ;    they  leap   and   tumble, 
hurry-skurry,  over    the    rocks,    as    though    glad    to 
escape    from    the     cold,    gray    mountain    solitudes, 
and   the   dull   pressure   and    sullen   push   of  snows, 
out   into  freedom,  down    through    kindling    sunlight, 


VERNAL    AND     NEVADA    FALLS.  343 

to   the   bosom    of    beauty   and    peace,   in    the    fair 
valley   land. 

Across  the  Merced, — the  ubiquitous  Merced, — 
between  the  two  falls,  and  right  under  the  old 
Cap  of  Liberty,  called  by  the  Indians  Mahta,  is 
a  summer  hotel,  well  kept,  neat,  and  comfortable. 
Here  we  concluded  to  spend  the  night,  in  order 
thoroughly  to  see  the  two  falls,  —  the  only  way 
it  can  be  done.  All  the  afternoon  was  spent 
beside  the  cascades  and  rapids  and  about  the 
beautiful  Vernal.  This  is  the  only  waterfall  in 
the  valley  which  has  any  color.  One  portion  of 
it  is  of  the  brightest  emerald.  There  is  on  the 
edge  of  the  precipice  a  singular  parapet  of 
granite,  behind  which  you  can  stand  and  look 
down  four  hundred  feet  into  a  dim  world  of 
mist  and  spray.  At  one  side  of  the  falls  there 
is  an  easy  stairway,  leading  down  to  lovely,  ferny 
grottos,  and  little  hanging-gardens,  kept  green 
and   cool   by   the   perpetual    baptism  of    the   spray. 

The  night  came  on  cold  and  wild,  with  clouds 
and  wind  and  fitful  moonlight.  The  guides  built 
a  camp-fire  on  the  rocks  before  the  hotel,  which 
we   gathered    about,   and    roasted    our    faces   while 


344  CALIFORNIA. 


our  backs  were  shivering.  The  only  chance  of 
comfort  would  have  been  in  continually  revolving, 
by  some  sort  of  spit  arrangement,  —  to  turn 
one's  self  was  too  much  like  work ;  yet  we  were 
very  merry,  —  not  at  all  put  down  by  little  dis- 
comforts and  great  sublimities.  Mr.  Muir  built 
large  fires  down  by  the  river.  The  effects  of 
the  red  gleams  and  wavering  flashes  among  the 
rocks  and  dark  pines,  and  of  the  reflections  on 
the  rapids,  were  marvellously  picturesque.  We 
slept  well  that  night,  to  the  grand  lullaby  of  the 
cataracts,  only  disturbed  by  the  fall  of  a  small 
avalanche  from  the  Cap  of  Liberty,  and  a  mild 
earthquake  shock.  Old  Mahta  is  given  to  ava- 
lanching,  and  vagrant  earthquakes  to  prowling 
round  the  valley.  The  latter  do  little  harm,  — 
they  knock  and  run.  When  I  felt  this  one 
gently  shaking  my  bedstead,  I  recognized  the 
peculiar  jog  I  had  felt  at  Sacramento  and  San 
Francisco,  and,  familiarized  with  subterranean 
visitors,  the  irreverent  words  of  Hamlet  occurred 
to    me  :  — 

"  Old  mole  !  can'st  work  i'  the  earth  so  fast  ?  " 

A    climb    up    a    steep,    rough    foot-trail   to    the 


SUBLIMITY    AND    SANDWICHES.  345 

top  of  Nevada  Falls  was  the  morning's  gallant 
undertaking.  It  was  real  work,  though  full 
of  rare,  hearty  enjoyment.  In  the  river,  above 
the  falls,  is  a  picturesque,  rocky  island,  near  the 
shore.  By  crossing  on  a  bridge  of  one  log  over 
the  rapids  of  the  small  side  fall,  we  reached 
this  island,  and  secured  the  finest  near  view 
of  the  grand  cataract,  —  one  of  the  greatest  in 
the  world.  From  a  projecting  ledge,  a  sort  of 
Table  Rock,  we  were  able  to  follow  its  mad 
leap  down  seven  hundred  feet,  to  look  straight 
into  the  chasm  where  it  was  deepest  and  dark- 
est, into  the  vortex  of  swirling,  wrestling,  fight- 
ing waters,  —  a  mighty  agony  of  contending 
forces.  Turning  from  that  image  of  eternal 
unrest  to  the  serene  blue  sky  and  the  steadfast 
white  domes,  we  stored  our  brains  with  pictures 
of  sublimity  unimaginable,  steeped  our  souls  in 
beauty  inexpressible,  and  then  —  we  went  to 
lunch. 

Mr.     Muir    thinks    he    finds    in     this    particular 

region     abundant     evidence    of     the    truth    of    the 

theory   he    holds    of    the   formation    of    the   valley 

by   glacial    action.     At   the   falls,  and    on   our  way 

IS* 


346  CALIFORNIA. 


down,  he  pointed  out  rocks  showing,  as  he 
thought,  distinct  marks  of  the  drift.  Professor 
Whitney,  the  eminent  State  geologist,  scouts  at 
the  idea  of  glaciers  "  sawing  out  these  vertical 
walls,"  carving  the  spires  and  "  turning "  the 
domes,  and  is  as  certain  of  "  subsidence "  as 
though  he  "  was  there  all  the  while."  But  he 
comes  whose  right  it  is  to  decide  all  glacier 
questions,  Louis  Agassiz.  If  he  claims  the  val- 
ley, the  subsiders  will  have  to  subside.  I  have 
endeavored  to  maintain  a  calm  neutrality,  though 
feeling,  of  course,  the  tremendous  issues  involved 
in  the  dispute.  Forever  unforgetable  the  last  views 
we  had  of  the  two  cataracts  from  the  trail 
below  the  hotel,  on  our  way  down  into  the  val- 
ley !  They  were  absolutely  resplendent  in  the 
afternoon  sunlight,  each  plunging  joyously  into 
piles  of  welcoming  rainbows,  —  a  vortex  of  splen- 
dors. They  were  clothed  in  glory  as  a  garment. 
The  ride  on  the  lower  trail  was  even  more 
charming  than  it  had  been  in  the  morning.  In 
the  deep,  sweet-ferny  wood  the  sunset  glories 
were  exquisitely  tempered  by  foliage  of  every 
shade    of   green ;   the    air   was    delicious   with    the 


LUMBER.  347 


fragrance  of  great  white  buckeye  flowers,  creamy 
azaleas  and  wild  roses  and  lilacs.  Then  there 
was  the  jubilant  singing  of  the-  swift  mountain 
streams,  broken  into,  now  and  then,  by  the  deep 
bass  of  cascades.  A  brief,  rough  mule  ride;  but 
what   a  joy   it   was,   and   is,   and   ever   shall   be ! 


My  sixth  day  was  a  deliciously  lazy  day,  spent 
mostly  in  rowing  and  in  strolling  and  idling 
about  with  a  lovely  friend  over  the  river,  and 
beside  the  Lower  Yosemite  Falls.  On  our  way 
we  passed  the  saw-mill  that  furnishes  all  the 
lumber  used  in  the  valley,  and,  after  our  fashion, 
stopped  for  a  little  chat  with  the  workmen  we 
found  grappling  the  great  logs  and  putting 
them  through.  There  is  a  law  prohibiting  the 
feUing  of  live  trees  in  the  valley,  and  all  these, 
we  were  told,  had  fallen  in  the  natural  way, — 
were  doubly  dead  trees.  But  they  looked  sin- 
gularly sound  and  plump,  as  though  they  had 
died  a  sudden  death,  —  not,  I  am  sure,  from 
heart  disease;  and  I  fear  no  "crowner"  sat  on 
them.     One    of    the    men,   who    was    opposed    to 


348  CALIFORNIA. 


the  anti-chopping  law  (I  suspect  he  was  a 
Greeley  man),  said,  speaking  as  an  unprejudiced 
sawyer,  "  I  think  the  pines,  at  least,  ought  to 
be  excepted  ;  they  might  all  be  cut  down ;  they 
are   no   ornament   to   the   valley." 

In  the  evening,  about  sunset,  I  rode  down  to 
Black's,  for  a  little  gossip  with  some  gay  friends. 
A  woman  cannot  dwell  in  sublimities  forever. 
On  the  way,  I  drew  rein,  as  I  frequently  did, 
beside  a  little  sheet  of  water,  an  overflowed 
meadow,  to  look  at  a  wonderful  reflection,  in 
the  clear,  still  water,  of  the  Yosemite  Falls,  the 
neighboring  rocks,  and  the  sky.  I  was  presently 
joined  by  a  rough  but  kindly  stranger,  who, 
with  the  pleasant  freedom  of  the  valley,  asked 
what  I  was  "  lookin'  at .-' "  "  At  the  reflections 
there,"  I  said,  pointing  to  the  wondrous  pic- 
ture of  waterfall,  precipice,  and  sky.  He  peered 
down  in  a  puzzled  way  for  a  moment,  then 
started  back,  as  though  fearful  of  falling  into 
the  abysmal  blue,  and  exclaimed,  "  Well,  now, 
I  've  been  in  and  about  this  valley,  in  the  pack- 
mule    business,   for  ten    years,   but    never    noticed 

that  thar  before.  Why,  it 's  as  good  as  the  real 
thing ! " 


SIMULATED     SAVAGERY.  349 

How  many  such  people  we  meet,  men  and 
women,  who,  "  having  eyes,  see  not " !  If  the 
sky  were  full  of  tilting  comets,  they  would  ask, 
"  Why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven  ? "  I 
doubt  many  a  pack  mule,  since  the  time  of  the 
prophet   Balaam,   has    seen    more    than    his   master. 

There  was  a  grand  aboriginal  entertainment 
before  the  hotel  that  evening,  —  a  horse-race  and 
a  dance  of  Diggers.  A  "war-dance,"  they  called 
it ;  and,  by  means  of  burnt  cork  and  wild  berry- 
juice,  bunches  of  turkey-feathers  and  tags  of 
bear-skin,  they  had  managed  to  impart  a  feeble 
ferocity  to  their  meek,  moony  faces,  —  a  faint 
touch  of  barbarism  to  their  stunted,  slouching,  and 
pantalooned  figures.  But  there  is  more  of  insolent 
cruelty  in  one  slow,  sullen  glance  from  old  Red 
Cloud's  bloodshot  eyes  than  in  the  concentrated 
savagery  of  the  whole  Digger  tribe.  Squaws 
and  pappooses  followed  the  festive  braves  in  gig- 
gling adoration.  One  tattooed  princess,  resplendent 
in  a  yellow  calico  robe  and  a  tinsel  coronet, 
passed  round  the  hat.  It  was  doubtless  a  poor 
show  to  travellers  who  had  been  in  the  wild 
Territories,     where     there     are     Indians    that    are 


350  CALIFORNIA 


Indians ;  who  have  seen  war-dances  where  the 
dancers  were  armed  with  real  tomahawks,  and 
decorated  with  real  scalps ;  but,  after  our  show, 
I  was  quite  willing  to  ride  home  through  the 
dim  moonlight  alone ;  glad  to  be  alone  with  the 
shadow  and  the  shine,  the  fine  silence  and  the 
great   sound. 

On  the  seventh  day  we  found  our  Gospel 
privileges,  which  were  already  not  inconsiderable, 
increased  by  the  arrival  of  a  number  of  clergy- 
men, —  distinguished  divines,  but  (I  mean  no  ir- 
reverence) good  fellows  for  all  that.  They  had 
evidently  retained  on  entering  the  ministry, 
among  their  reserved  rights,  a  good  deal  of  hu- 
man nature,  some  practical  sense,  and  a  healthy 
jollity.  At  table  they  were  especially  merry, 
and  laughed  generously  at  little  jests ;  indeed, 
it  was  pleasant  to  see  how  far  a  very  little  joke 
would  go  with  them,  and  how  long  it  would  run. 
They  tossed  it  about  tenderly,  like  good  boys 
playing  "  throw-and-catch "  with  a  Sunday-school 
book.  The  morning's  programme  was  a  visit  to 
the  Yosemite  Falls  on  the  north  side,  and  a 
ride    up   the   valley   to    El     Capitan.     I    was   with 


A    REVEREND    RIDER. 


351 


a  charming  family  party  of  old  friends,  with 
whom  I  was  to  make  the  overland  journey 
home ;  but  we  were  joined  by  several  other 
tourists,  making  a  large  cavalcade.  The  Church 
was  out  in  force.  During  the  latter  part  of  the 
ride,  where  the  trail  widened  into  a  good  road, 
and  there  was  a  chance  for  a  gallop,  and  my 
old  propensity  for  hard  riding  came  over  me,  I 
suddenly  found  myself  neck  and  neck  with  a 
clergyman,  one  of  the  gravest  and  gentlest  of 
the  new-comers,  and  an  eloquent  and  eminent 
D.  D.  of  Philadelphia,  —  a  city  as  renowned  for 
its  preachers  as  it  is  proverbial  for  its  lawyers, 
favored,  indeed,  both  by  the  law  and  the  Gospel, 
I  should  be  only  too  proud  to  find  myself  in 
this  friend's  edifying  company  any  day ;  but  I 
doubt  if  he  would  be  willing  to  ride  through 
Fairmount  Park,  where  he  might  meet  his  re- 
spectable parishioners,  with  his  Yosemite  com- 
panion, dressed  as  she  was,  mounted  as  she  was, 
on  that  golden  Saturday.  Here  was  a  clergy- 
man of  reverent,  poetic  spirit,  whose  ideas  of 
this  beautiful  world  were  not  darkened  by  the 
traditional    curse    of    Eden,  —  one   who   could    find 


352  CALIFORNIA. 


"  Books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything." 

For  him  there  was  a  "  whole  body  of  divinity " 
in  El  Capitan,  as  was  shown  by  the  reverential 
glow,  the  devout  delight  of  his  face,  when  he  looked 
up  the  three  thousand  three  hundred  feet  of 
broad,  vertical  rock  from  the  vast  mass  of  debris 
(which  at  a  little  distance  attracts  no  notice)  at 
the  base.  We  were  too  much  impressed  by 
the  grand  aspect  of  this  stupendous  rock  as 
an  image  of  Eternal  Majesty  and  strength,  to  see 
or  seek  in  it  any  likeness  to  anything  human  ; 
but  what  is  called  "  the  Old  Captain "  was  after- 
wards pointed  out  to  us,  —  a  face  and  figure  dis- 
tinct enough,  but  not  as  fine  by  far  as  the  Shake- 
speare at  Lake  Tahoe.  On  our  way  back,  we  were 
called  on  to  pay  fifty  cents  toll  for  passing  a  crazy 
old  bridge,  which  we  had  to  eke  out  by  some  rods 
of  fording  and  floundering.  Almost  every  excur- 
sion you  take  here  subjects  you  to  a  tax  of  this 
sort ;  you  cannot  say  of  the  valley,  that  the  half 
has  not  been  tolled.  If  the  bridges  and  trails 
were   in   better   condition,    one    would    not    be   dis- 


A    SUNDAY    MORNING.  353 

posed   to   grumble,    except    to    show     people    that 
one  has    travelled. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  Bridal  Veil  again,  and  the 
rainbows,  of  which  we  found  a  full  variety.  That 
was  a  memorable  last  ride  we  had  up  to  our 
hotel,  through  the  lingering  sunset.  The  gilding 
of  the  Cathedral  Spires  and  Sentinel  Rock  was 
something  marvellous  to  behold.  The  valley  was 
just  brimmed  with  tender,  tremulous,  aureate  light. 
We  felt  that  we  had  hardly  seen  it  till  then  ; 
but  so  we  thought  every  latest  time  we  beheld  it. 
The  beauty,  the  splendor,  the  height,  the  depth, 
the  impression  of  infinite  variety,  grow  upon  you 
continually. 


On  Sunday  morning  it  was  announced  at 
breakfast  that  there  were  to  be  divine  services  in 
the  parlor  of  the  Hutchings  House.  Couriers  had 
been  despatched  the  night  before  to  the  other 
hotels,  with  the  glad  tidings  that  Rev.  Dr.  Or- 
miston,  of  New  York,  was  to  preach  ;  and  at  the 
usual  hour  for  such  gatherings  in  the  world  out- 
side,  a    good-sized   congregation   was    brought    to- 

w 


354  CALIFORNIA. 


gather  in  that  wild  little  inside  world,  without 
the  aid  of  "  the  church-going  bell."  By  the  way, 
I  wonder  some  enterprising  Yankee  doesn't  put 
one  up  on  Cathedral  Rock,  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  collecting  toll.  We  tried  to  do  the  decorous 
thing  on  that  occasion.  Mr.  Hutchings  put  on  a 
"  biled "  shirt  and  a  coat.  I  donned  a  long  black 
skirt  and  a  new  paper  collar.  I  think  I  must 
have  looked  respectable,  for  the  minister  himself 
did  me  the  honor  to  invite  me  to  lead  the  sing- 
ing. This  was  an  exquisite,  though  unconscious, 
joke  on  the  part  of  Dr.  Ormiston.  Without  me 
that  portion  of  the  exercises  partook  of  the  na- 
ture of  a  failure  :  with  me  it  would  have  been 
a  disaster.  That  was  an  eloquent  discourse  and 
an  orthodox,  given  in  a  round  and  resonant  voice ; 
but  over  against  us,  just  across  the  valley,  there 
was  a  grand  old  preacher,  thundering  forth  from 
a  pulpit  of  immemorial  rock,  his  long,  white  beard 
waving  in  the  wind.  He  preached  out  of  Eternity, 
into  Eternity,  and  finally  preached  the  good 
Doctor   down. 

After   service   I   felt   inclined    to    seek   the  "dim 
relio-ious   light"    of  Nature's   minster   of   rocks  and 


MIRROR    LAKE.  355 


woods  ;  to  tell  the  truth,  I  mounted,  and  hurried 
away  to  Mirror  Lake,  whither  some  friends  had 
preceded  me.  I  keenly  enjoyed  my  solitary  ride 
on  that  cold,  cloudy,  gusty  day ;  and  though  the 
way  was  new  to  me,  I  had  but  one  little  ad- 
venture. As  I  was  riding  rapidly  up  a  part  of 
the  trail  which  wound  around  a  boulder  as  big 
as  a  meeting-house,  I  came  suddenly  on  a  mounted 
Indian,  wildly  clad  and  gorgeously  decorated, 
for  Sunday,  doubtless.  I  had  heard  no  sound: 
perhaps  Indian  ponies  have  a  stealthy  tread  ; 
certain  it  is  that  all  horses  but  Indian  horses 
are  afraid  of  Indians.  Mine  shied,  reared,  and, 
for  a  moment,  was  badly  demoralized.  Now,  if 
I  had  been  perched  on  a  side-saddle,  of  the  nar- 
row, "  double-decker "  sort  used  in  the  valley, 
there  would  probably  have  been  a  tragedy,  with 
no  one  but  the  savage  left  to  tell  the  tale. 

Mirror  Lake  is  a  pretty  little  sheet  of  water, 
about  two  miles  up  the  caiion  of  the  Tenaya  Creek. 
It  reflects  with  marvellous  accuracy,  morning  and 
evening,  the  grand  heights  above  it ;  that  is,  when 
the  current  of  the  stream  passing  through  it  is 
not   too   strong.     Some  tourists,  who   have  "done" 


356  CALIFORNIA. 


Europe,  but  will  never  have  done  with  it,  on 
visiting  this  modest  Httle  lake  with  great  ex- 
pectations, have  been  heard  to  denounce  it  as 
"  a  sell."  But  the  lake  smiles  on  as  placidly 
as  ever.  She  never  set  up  for  a  Como,  or  a 
Maggiore ;  but  she  bears  in  her  bosom  the  im- 
ages of  precipices  and  domes  such  as  those  fine 
Italian   lakes   never  dreamed   of. 

Here  I  found  my  friends  and  the  lunch  wait- 
ing for  me.  From  here,  under  the  guidance  of 
Mr.  Muir,  we  set  out  on  a  tramp  to  find  Te- 
naya  Falls  and  the  cascades  of  Porcupine  Creek, 
—  beauties  blocked  and  curtained  away  from  or- 
dinary tourists  by  great  masses  of  rock  and 
thick  foUage.  We  passed  first  through  a  lovely 
piece  of  woodland  along  the  creek ;  grassy  and 
flowery  it  was,  with  great  patches  of  wonderful 
ferns.  It  was  the  sweetest,  peacefullest  place  I 
had  found  anywhere  within  Yosemite  bounds. 
There  was  something  so  deliciously  and  dream- 
ily poetic  about  it  we  named  it  the  "  Enchanted 
Forest."  It  might  have  been  the  wood  of  "  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream "  or  a  strip  of  the  For- 
est   of    Arden.      Through    this    was,    of     course, 


TENAYA     FALLS.  357 


pleasant,  easy  travelling,  or  loitering ;  but  beyond, 
every  step  was  a  toil  and  a  pull.  We  had  to 
creep  up  and  slide  down  boulders ;  cross  streams 
on  logs  and  slippery  stones;  to  jump  like  the 
goat  and  climb  like  the  bear,  —  at  least  Mr.  Muir 
was  pleased  to  compare  me  as  a  climbist,  to 
that  agile  animal.  I  thought  it  best  to  take  the 
remark  as  a  compliment,  and,  in  return,  paid  a 
tribute  to  his  transcendent  climbing :  it  was  the 
best  proof  I  had  ever  seen  of  the  truth  of 
the  Darwinian  theory.  On  account  of  the  high 
water,  we  could  not,  with  all  our  super-  or  sub- 
human efforts,  get  very  near  to  the  beautiful, 
lonely  falls  of  the  Tenaya,  but  we  did  get  quite 
close  to  the  more  beautiful  cascades  of  the 
fretful  Porcupine.  These  come  down  the  steep 
narrow  cafion  in  a  lovely,  winding  procession, 
dazzling  to  behold.  Clad  in  foam,  sparkling  with 
spray,  like  fine  lace  lit  with  diamonds,  they  look, 
as  they  leap  down  those  steps  of  light,  strange- 
ly glad  and  exulting,  full  of  frolic  and  passion, 
reminding  one  of  the  naiads  of  Mysia,  who 
stole  young  Hylas  from  Hercules,  and  ran  away 
with    him.      This    is    the    way    they    ran,    this    is 


358  CALIFORNIA, 


the  way  they  laughed.  Taken  as  a  whole,  this, 
I  think,  would  be  pronounced  the  most  radiant- 
ly lovely  of  all  the  Yosemite  waterfalls  ;  and 
yet  what  a  shy,  secluded  little  savage  it  is  !  To 
look  on  her  face,  you  must  fight  your  way 
through  brake  and  brier,  as  the  fairy  Prince 
fought  his  way  to  the  Enchanted  Palace  of  the 
Sleeping  Beauty.  You  have  to  brave  perils  of 
poison-oak,  tumbles  and  bruises,  torn  clothes,  wet 
feet,  and  scratched  faces.  This  should  not  be.  A 
good  trail  should  be  made  to  both  the  falls  and 
the  cascades,  —  sights  which  alone  would,  if  in 
Europe,  call  crowds  of  tourists  to  their  vicinity. 
I  take  occasion  to  say  that  several  new  trails 
are  needed  in  and  about  the  valley,  and  that  the 
old  ones  call  loudly  for  reconstruction  ;  and  I 
cannot  think  that  California,  into  whose  care 
Congress  gave  these  wonderful  places,  so  long 
God's  inviolate  preserves,  is  fully  justifying  that 
noble  trust.  A  generous  fund  from  the  treasury 
of  the  generous  State  should  be  set  aside  by 
every  Legislature  for  Yosemite  improvements. 
But  whether  the  fund  be  large  or  small,  the 
commissioners,     certain     magnificent     and     myste- 


A    DAMAGED    CATARACT.  359 

rious  gentlemen  of  whom  you  hear  much  but 
see  nothing  in  the  valley,  —  should  look  to  it  that 
the  money  be  judiciously  expended.  I  was  told 
that  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars  had  been 
or  was  to  be  allowed  a  certain  "  cute "  Yankee, 
in  payment  for  the  extraordinary  enterprise  of 
cutting  off  the  pretty  little  side  cascade  of  the 
Nevada,  by  means  of  a  dam,  and  turning  all 
the  water  into  the  great  cataract.  "  Fixing  the 
falls,"  he  calls  the  job  of  tinkering  one  of 
God's  masterpieces.  There  is  a  chance  to  pun 
on  "the  deep  damnation  of  that  cutting  off"; 
but  I  forbear.  All  the  rights  of  toll-gate  keep- 
ers should  be  bought  up,  and  all  the  trails  and 
bridges  be  absolutely  free.  This  would  be  not  only 
the  most  liberal,  but  the  most  politic  course  to 
pursue,  and  all  such  expenditures  would  be  returned 
a  hundred-fold  to  the  State.  Let  it  not  be  said, 
even  by  fools,  that  the  Yosemitc  "doesn't  pay." 
Let  it  not  be  said  by  any  visitor  that  it  is  a 
new  Niagara  for  extortions  and  impositions,  —  a 
rocky  pitfall  for  the  unwary,  a  Slough  of  De- 
spond for  the  timid  and  the  weak.  I  doubt 
not    all    the   improvements    I    have   indicated,    and 


360  CALIFORNIA. 


more,  will  come  in  time,  if  not  in  good  time ; 
and  though  I  shrink  from  seeing  engines  snort- 
ing about  in  the  very  face  of  El  Capitan,  and 
puffing  sooty  smoke  through  the  pure  mist  of 
the  Bridal  Veil,  I  hope  to  hear  soon  of  the 
fine  stage-road  being  continued  from  Clark's, 
by  the  old  Indian  trail  along  the  Merced,  into 
the  valley.  That  will  enable  invalids  and  people 
of  advanced  age  to  make  the  great  trip  without 
peril  or  hardship,  and  release  a  few  miserable 
mules  and  horses  from  the  torture  of  the  side- 
saddle. 

But  to  return  to  Tenaya  Canon.  As  we  faced 
about  to  return  to  the  lake,  we  perceived  that 
the  storm  that  had  been  sullenly  brewing  all 
day  was  almost  upon  us.  One  dark  cloud,  like 
a  vast,  broad-winged  bird,  came  swooping  down 
from  Mount  Watkins.  The  summit  of  the  great 
Half-Dome  had  so  vanished  in  mist  and  mys- 
tery that  you  could  easily  imagine  that  vast 
vertical  wall  miles  high.  The  winds  soughed 
mournfully  in  the  pines  of  the  Enchanted  Forest, 
and  made  a  terrified  tumult  in  the  poplars  as 
we    hurried    through.     By     the     time    we    reached 


A    GATHERING    STORM.  361 


our  horses  the  rain  came  down,  though  very 
gently  at  first.  Indeed,  the  entire  preparations 
for  a  storm  were  very  solemn,  stately,  and  delib- 
erate. The  thunder  was  low  and  slow ;  the  very 
lightning  seemed  languid.  As  for  us,  we  took 
matters  as  quietly,  wrapped  ourselves  in  our 
water-proofs,  and  gave  ourselves  up  to  a  profound 
enjoyment  of  the  strange,  sombre  beauty  of  the 
scene.  Over  the  smooth  domes  and  jagged 
precipices  the  heavy  rain-clouds  continued  to  roll 
lazily  down.  As  we  looked  behind  us  we  saw 
how  they  blotted  out  the  Enchanted  Forest  and 
the  lake,  and  filled  the  canons  like  the  waves  of  a 
dull,  gray  sea;  but  in  the  great  valley  they 
were  floating  and  surging  here  and  there,  filing 
down  every  pass  and  trail,  toppling  off  peaks 
and  pinnacles,  —  some  of  them  looking  so  solidly 
dark  they  almost  seemed  a  part  of  the  mighty, 
many-towered  walls.  As  we  neared  the  hotel, 
still  riding  quietly  and  in  rapt  (well  wrapt)  si- 
lence, though  the  sprinkle  had  steadily  increased 
to  a  respectable  summer  shower,  we  noticed  that 
half  the  great  fall  was  shrouded  from  sight, 
—  clouds  and  rain  come  to  visit  their  cousins, 
16 


362  CALIFORNIA. 


mist  and  spray,  —  while  tlie*  great  gorge  to  the 
right,  Indian  Canon,  was  dark  as  night,  crammed 
with  tempest.  Of  course,  for  these  clouds  there 
was  no  blowing  over,  no  getting  out  ;  they  were 
"  corralled,"  and  had  to  rain  themselves  away, 
which  most  of  them  did  in  the  course  of  the 
night. 

After  dinner  all  the  guests  —  tourists  from  many 
parts  of  the  world  —  gathered  about  the  huge  fire- 
place of  rough  granite  in  the  primitive  parlor  at 
the  old  Hutchings  House,  enjoying  the  sparkling 
flame  and  genial  warmth  immensely,  considering 
that  it  was  the  15th  of  June.  The  next  morning  I 
rose  bright  and  early, — no,  early,  but  not  bright. 
I  was  not  by  any  means  in  a  jubilant  mood.  I 
was  to  go  out  of  the  valley  that  day, — the  dread- 
ful, delightful,  overwhelming,  uplifting  valley !  I 
had  chosen  to  depart  by  the  Big  Oak  Flat  and 
Chinese  Camp  routes,  the  chief  recommendations 
of  which  are  that  you  have  only  about  eight  miles 
of  horseback-riding,  if  that  be  a  recommendation  ; 
and  that  it  gives  you  a  chance  to  visit  the  Cal- 
averas big  trees,  if,  after  Mariposa  and  Yosemite, 
you    have   not    had    enough    of    big    things.       The 


A    JUNE    VISION    OF    WINTER.  363 


Steep  mountain  trail  iS  only  three  miles  long.  You 
take  the  stage  at  Gentry's,  and  go  by  the  route  I 
have  indicated,  or  by  the  Coulterville  route,  said 
to  be  even  more  picturesque  and  interesting.  This 
strikes  the  railroad  at  Merced.  But  I  am  poach- 
ing on  the  guide-book  man's  preserves. 

When  I  left  our  cottage  that  morning,  to  go  to 
my  breakfast  at  the  hotel,  I  found  that  the  rain 
had  ceased,  but  that  it  was  still  cloudy  and 
strangely  cold,  and  —  had  I  risen  from  a  small 
Rip  Van  Winkle  sleep.?  —  all  along  the  upper  edge 
of  the  valley,  and  in  some  places  half-way  down, 
the  rocks  and  wooded  steeps  were  white  with 
snow !  How  grand  the  pines  looked,  standing  up 
white  and  still,  like  so  many  ghostly  sentinels  !  A 
winter  view  of  the  Yosemite  was  what  I  had 
keenly  desired,  but  never  hoped  to  see.  This  was 
a  little  dream  of  it,  —  a  hint  of  the  holy  white 
beauty,  the  fearful  splendor,  which  Hutchings  and 
Muir  know  so  well,  and  which  Bierstadt  endured 
and  braved  so  much  to  see  and  transfer  to  his 
canvas,  last  winter. 

With  a  choking  good  by  to  my  host  and  his 
family,  who  had  been  most  kind  to  me,  —  with  lin- 


364  CALIFORNIA. 


gering  backward  looks  at  the  pleasant  places  that 
would  know  me  no  more,  and  not  know  their  loss,  — 
I  rode  gloomily  down  to  Black's,  where  there  were 
other  leave-takings,  sad  enough,  heaven  knows,  for 
all  the  jests  and  brave  words,  —  the  froth  on  the  bit- 
ter stirrup-cup,  —  and  then  away  under  the  dreary 
clouds  and  chill  mists.  I  had  lingered  till  all  the 
friends  with  whom  I  came  into  the  valley  had  left. 
Other  friends  were  going  by  the  other  route ;  and 
the  small  party  I  found  myself  with  to-day  were 
strangers,  as  much  so  as  any  fellow-pilgrims  to  the 
sacred  Sierras  can  be  to  one.  Yet,  in  the  mood 
I  was  in,  I  did  not  mind  it.  Indeed,  I  rode,  wher- 
ever it  was  possible  that  morning,  quite  apart  and 
alone,  feehng  in  the  gusty  mountain  air  and  wild, 
tempestuous  surroundings  a  peculiar  stormy  delight 
which  is  quite  inexpressible.  My  last  view  of  the 
Yosemite  was  the  grandest  I  ever  had,  —  full  of 
majesty  and  mystery.  Great,  billowy  rain-clouds 
were  driving  across  the  valley  and  breaking  against 
the  tremendous  rocks  of  the  south  side  like  surf 
against  a  craggy  shore.  The  beautiful  Cathedral 
spires  faded  out  of  sight ;  the  Bridal  Veil  wavered, 
glimmered,    and   was   gone ;    the   valley   itself  van- 


LEAVE-TAKING.  365 

ished  like  a  magnificent,  fantastic  dream ;  and 
there  was  only  left  the  steep,  narrow  mountain- 
path  before  me,  with  its  noisy  brooks  and  snow- 
dropping  pines  and  beetling  rocks,  and  to  my  left 
a  dark  gorge,  in  which  I  caught  faint,  far-down 
glimpses  of  the  swift  and  sounding  Merced. 


RETURN    FROM    THE    YOSEMITE.  —  LAST    DAYS 
IN    CALIFORNIA. 

The  views  from  the  high  mountains  we  had 
looked  to  enjoy,  on  coming  out  of  the  valley,  were 
mostly  lost  to  us  through  the  mist  and  rain.  The 
morning  was  for  two  or  three  hours  cold  and  raw, 
and  the  snow  fell  so  heavily  from  the  loaded  pines 
that  we  seemed  to  be  journeying  through  a  tre- 
mendous winter  storm  ;  but  by  the  time  we 
reached  Hodging's  Ranch,  which  I  remember  as  a 
good  dining-place  with  very  much  good  landlady, 
all  was  bright  and  clear,  and  the  remainder  of 
our  day's  journey  was  altogether  enjoyable.  We 
found  the  mountain  roads  admirable,  and  the  gi-and 
old  forests  full  of  inviting  vistas  and  enticing  mys- 
teries.    Along  this  route  stand  the   Tuolumne  Big 


366  CALIFORNIA. 


Trees,  not  a  large  grove,  and  containing  no  very 
distinguished  Sequoias,  and  yet  bearing  in  it  some 
stately  old  fellows,  who  might  stand  up  before  the 
Mariposa  best  eleven,  and  "  be  bold." 

During  that  first  day's  journey,  before  our  way 
brightened,  and  while  we  were  yet  quiet  and  silent, 
absorbed  and  vaguely  oppressed  with  Yosemite, 
memories  "  pleasant  and  mournful  to  the  soul,"  a 
chatty  young  ranchman  got  into  the  coach  for  a 
short  journey,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  amused  us 
not  a  little.  He  was  a  Vermont  boy,  to  whose 
Yankee  sharpness  and  cleverness  were  added  the 
broader  foresight  and  more  dashing  energy  in  busi- 
ness affairs  of  the  Californian.  His  face  was  su- 
pernaturally  wide-awake,  yet  strangely  vacant,  — 
full  of  that  peculiar  'cuteness  which  is  a  sort  of 
unripe  sense.  He  showed  a  confiding  simplicity, 
most  naive  and  childlike.  He  had  actually  no  re- 
serves. The  varied  tale  of  his  fortunes  was  poured 
into  the  unresponsive  bosom  of  the  stage-coach  as 
into  the  ear  and  heart  of  a  long-lost  brother.  I 
think  I  know  that  same  ranchman's  autobiography 
as  well  as  I  know  the  history  of  the  young  man 
Joseph,    perhaps    a    little   better.     He   had  got  on 


GUMPTION     versus    LEARNING.  367 

famously  ;  owned  two  large  cattle-ranches,  one  in 
the  mountains,  one  in  the  valley.  He  told  us  the 
number  of  his  flocks  and  herds,  at  a  rough  guess, 
with  astounding  stories  of  their  yearly  increase. 
He  spoke  rather  contemptuously,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  of  old  Vermont,  except  as  a  good  State  from 
which  to  start  a  young  man  in  life,  in  a  moral  sort 
of  a  way,  and  dwelt  rapturously  upon  "  Californy  " 
as  a  land  of  magnificent  chances.  "  Any  man," 
he  said,  "  with  any  sort  of  gumption,  can  get  along 
in  the  mountains  or  mining  districts,  except  preach- 
ers ;  there  ain't  any  kind  of  show  for  them.  They 
come  out  here  with  a  lot  of  sermons  and  a  little 
book-learning,  and  fire  away  pretty  smartly  for  a 
while  ;  but  sooner  or  later  they  find  that  they  must 
do  something  for  a  living,  like  the  rest  of  us.  No- 
body goes  to  hear  'em  preach  but  old  ladies,  and 
there 's  mighty  few  of  them  in  this  country,  you 
know ;  and  they  see  it  won't  pay.  Now,  there 's  a 
clergyman  down  in  our  settlement  who  's  college- 
bred,  and  did  n't  seem  good  for  anything  else  but 
preaching ;  but  after  trying  it  for  a  spell  and  getting 
dead  broke  at  it,  he  just  turned  over  a  new  leaf,  went 
into  stock-raising,  and  is  a  man  among  men.     You 


368  CALIFORNIA. 


ought  to  see  how  the  minister  is  rubbed  off  from 
him  !  and  yet  he 's  a  good  fellow.  He  don't 
come  out  as  a  preacher  nowadays,  except  when 
there  's  a  funeral  ;  then  he  comes  out  strong. 
Why,  ma'am,  see  him  on  such  an  occasion,  in  the 
morning,  and  he  will  make  as  good  a  prayer  as 
you  would  care  to  hear ;  and  see  him  down  to 
the  saloon  in  the  evening,  and  he  will  play  as 
good  a  game  of  euchre  as  you  would  care  to  see. 
I  don't  want  you  to  think  I  don't  believe  in  re- 
ligion. It 's  a  good  thing  to  keep  children  straight, 
and  to  make  old  folks  feel  comfortable.  But  we 
business  men  here  in  Californy  have  to  let  it  slide. 
It's  generally  in  the  way  of  making  money,  —  that 
is,  the  real  article  is,  —  and  we  must  make  money. 
I  had  a  pious  mother,  one  of  the  good,  old,  true- 
blue  sort  ;  she  used  to  send  me  to  Sunday  school 
regular,  and  if  she  heard  me  saying  a  wicked  word 
she  'd  go  for  me,  as  quick  as  wink.  And  I  've 
never  forgotten  her  teachin's.  To  this  day,  if 
you  '11  believe  me,  I  can't  swear  before  a  lady." 

Our  ingenuous  friend  said  that,  as  the  season 
advanced,  he  had  to  drive  his  cattle  from  the 
lower    to    the    upper    ranch,   and    that    he    made 


FIRST    AND    SECOND    GAROTTE.  369 

many  horseback  journeys  back  and  forth  and 
after  runaway  cattle,  camping  out  in  the  vast 
forests  alone  ;  no,  not  often  quite  alone ;  he  did  n't 
fancy  that ;  not  that  he  was  afraid,  but  that  he 
"  must  have  somebody  to  talk  to,  if  it  was  only 
an  Indian."  There  was  a  small  Digger  that  he 
often  took  along,  just  to  talk  to,  he  said.  Poor 
little  Lo! 

We  came  just  before  night  to  a  cluster  of 
small  houses,  called  Second  Garotte,  and  were 
told,  as  we  passed  under  a  large  oak,  that  the 
name  came  from  the  hanging  from  its  limbs,  some 
years  ago,  of  two  or  three  notorious  gamblers 
and  horse-thieves.  At  First  Garotte,  where,  from 
its  greater  size,  I  should  suppose  a  round  dozen 
gamblers  had  some  time  met  their  deserts,  we 
spent  the  night  in  a  comfortable  hotel,  kept  by 
the   most   obliging   of  landlords. 

"  At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  "  we  had  break- 
fasted and  were  off,  driving  through  Big-Oak  Flat, 
—  a  rich  and  busy  mining  region  once,  but  now 
utterly  desolate  and  deserted,  except  by  a  few 
melancholy   Chinese    gleaners.     But   a    little    more 

than     the   stump   of    the    gigantic   oak    that    gave 
16*  X 


37©  CALIFORNIA. 


the  name  to  this  place  remains.  That  is  enor- 
mous. 

For  miles  along  the  creek,  which  had  been 
tortured  out  of  all  its  natural  semblance,  the 
ravaged  and  ransacked  earth  had  the  most  dreary 
and  forlorn  appearance.  Here  and  there  Nature 
is  making  a  desperate  effort  to  recover  the  lost 
ground.  She  sends  out  brave  little  vanguards  of 
thistles  and  sunflowers,  and  by  the  aid  of  winds 
and  spring  floods  she  is  slowly  rebuilding  her 
earthworks. 

During  this  morning's  ride  we  met  the  stage, 
packed  with  passengers,  among  whom  I  recognized 
"  H.  H."  and  "Susan  Coolidge,"  the  Indepeiidenf s 
delightful  contributors,  travelling  quite  independent- 
ly, like  the  brave  women  they  are.  They  were 
going  into  the  Yosemite,  looking  singularly  bright, 
fresh,  and  neat.     I  wonder  how  they  came  out ! 

The  next  pleasant  object  on  our  way  was  the 
Tuolumne  River,  a  full,  bright  stream  in  a  great 
hurry,  as  all  streams  in  this  country  are.  Beyond 
the  ferry  we  passed  a  famous  vineyard  and  fruit 
and  flower  garden.  Here  were  the  largest  fig-trees 
I  had  seen  in  the  State,  and  magnificent  oleanders, 


ABANDONED     HOPES    AND     HOMES.  371 

each  great  tree  one  brilliant  mass  of  blooms  as 
sweet  and  rich  and  passionate  as  the  cry  it  sug- 
gests of  poor  Hero  to  her  lover  across  the  Helles- 
pont. 

At  Chinese  Camp  we  turned  aside  from  the  reg- 
ular road  to  the  railway,  and  took  the  stage  for 
Murphy's  and  Calaveras  Big  Trees.  Our  road  for 
the  remainder  of  the  day  was  exceedingly  inter- 
esting, leading,  as  it  did  for  the  most  part, 
through  old  mining  districts,  abandoned  now,  but 
full  of  suggestions  of  human  passions,  struggles, 
sorrows  ;  of  wild  hopes  and  wilder  dissipation  ;  of 
back-breaking  toil  and  heart-breaking  disappoint- 
ment ;  of  madness  and  crime,  heroism,  home-sick- 
ness, and  death.-  But  the  empty  and  closed  houses 
in  the  little  mining  towns  seemed  even  more  deso- 
late than  the  worked-out  diggings.  How  melan- 
choly to  look  on  the  deserted  saloons,  those  once 
brilliant  and  festive  haunts  to  which  the  pictur- 
esque and  generous  miner  came  every  Saturday 
night,  and  at  aristocratic  inonte  or  democratic 
poker  staked  and  lost  his  week's  hard  earnings 
with  a  magnificent  recklessness  which  a  prince 
might  envy,  but  never  emulate.     Scarcely  less  mel- 


372  CALIFORNIA. 


ancholy  is  the  aspect  of  the  "little  church  round 
the  corner,"  or  up  on  the  lonely  hill,  —  a  pretty 
edifice,  perhaps  built  in  the  old  flush  times,  when 
people  did  n't  care  what  they  did  with  their  money, 
but  now  abandoned  to  silence  and  solitude.  Just 
beyond  Sonora  —  a  charming,  shady,  foreign-look- 
ing town  —  we  came  upon  the  most  singular  field 
of  mining  operations  I  have  ever  beheld.  The 
ground  on  each  side  of  the  road  for  miles  has 
been  dug  and  washed  clean  away  from  the  under- 
lying rock,  which  is  of  a  peculiar  broken  and 
jagged  character,  apparently  volcanic  formation. 
The  earth  has  been  completely  dissected,  and  her 
skeleton  laid  bare,  —  a  strange  and  ghastly  sight. 
In  some  places  the  denuded  rocks  look  like  enor- 
mous tusks,  fangs,  and  snags,  as  though  Cadmus 
had  been  about  his  old  business,  sowing  monstrous 
dragon  teeth.  In  and  about  the  town  of  Colum- 
bia we  found  work,  principally  h3'draulic  mining, 
recommenced,  and  going  on  vigorously.  It  prom- 
ises soon  to  destroy  all  the  comfort  and  come- 
liness of  the  pretty  little  town.  In  every  direction 
houses  are  being  besieged  and  undermined.  Even 
the   church   seems   in   as   imminent   peril  from  the 


"cloth    of   gold"   roses.  373 


encroachments  of  mammon  as  though  it  stood  on 
Broadway.  One  white  cottage  we  noticed,  stand- 
ing out  bravely.  It  had  a  fine  garden  about  it, 
smiling  with  roses.  There  was  no  telHng,  of 
course,  what  great  treasure  lay  in  Nature's  gran- 
ite vaults  underneath,  drawing  no  interest,  and 
rendering  every  one  of  those  festal  roses  as  costly 
as  a  Chappaqua  cabbage  ;  but  I  honored  the 
woman  who  had  held  on  to  beauty  and  simple 
comfort,  untempted  by  possible  riches,  with  certain 
desolation.  But  she  may  not  endure  much  longer: 
she  is  cut  off  on  every  side.  The  gorgeous 
"  cloth  of  gold "  roses  seem  to  understand  the  situ- 
ation, and  to  be  crowding  the  bloom  of  many 
summers  into  one. 

It  was  near  Columbia  that  we  met  our  friends, 
Rev.  Dr.  Furness  and  his  wife,  just  from  Cala- 
veras, bound  for  the  Yosemite.  The  smile  of  the 
good  minister  was  like  a  benediction  on  the  day. 
He  seemed  a  little  apprehensive  about  his  brave 
undertaking,  and  asked,  in  his  quaint  way,  "Will 
I  be  frightened  much  ?  "  I  told  him  I  hoped  not ; 
that  heaven  was  over  the  Yosemite,  though  an 
unconscionable   way   off.      I  might    have   told   him 


374  CALIFORNIA. 


how  another  distinguished  divine  had  even  found 
courage  to  preach  in  the  awful  valley,  amid  the 
sound  of  many  waters  and  the  gloom  of  a  gather- 
ing tempest.     But  then,  he  was  orthodox. 

On  this  route  there  is  some  fine  river  and  moun- 
tain scenery.  We  crossed  the  Stanislaus,  rendered 
classical  by  the  story  of  the  scientific  society  and 
the  fatal  "  row "  that  broke  it  up  ;  and  we  saw 
Table  Mountain,  so  tenderly  associated  with 
"Truthful   James." 

Murphy's  is  a  quiet  little  town,  with  one  of  the 
very  best  hotels  in  all  California,  where  we  had  a 
delightful  rest,  in  beds  that  were  absolutely  lux- 
urious. 

The  stage-ride  of  sixteen  miles,  from  Murphy's 
to  the  Big  Trees,  we  found  very  pleasant  in  the 
early  morning.  The  grove  itself,  containing  nearly 
a  hundred  of  the  giants,  is  a  most  lovely  place ; 
and  as  there  is  here  an  excellent  hotel,  it  is  be- 
coming more  and  more  a  summer  resort  for  Cali- 
fornians.  I  doubt  if  any  traveller  willingly  leaves 
it  after  a  visit  of  only  a  few  hours.  I  met  here  a 
dear  old  friend  in  the  noble  wife  of  Professor  Whit- 
ney, who,   with   her   young    daughter,   is   spending 


THE    GIANT    GROVE.  375 

the  summer  in  the  grand,  beneficent  shadow  of 
the  Sequoias,  finding  inexhaustible  deHght  in 
this  wood  of  woods,  so  green  and  clean  and  aro- 
matic, and  in  watching  it  under  all  the  changes  of 
light  and  shade,  of  day  and  night.  They  say  that 
the  moonlight  effects  here  are  inexpressibly  lovely. 
The  trees  of  the  Calaveras  grove  are  less  injured 
by  fire  than  those  of  Mariposa,  and  are  generally 
taller  and  more  symmetrical.  Mrs.  Whitney  gave 
me  a  vivid  realization  of  their  height  by  saying 
that,  when  she  looked  out  upon  them  from  her 
chamber-window  at  night,  she  saw  "  the  stars  en- 
tangled in  their  branches." 

In  entering  the  grounds  you  drive  between  two 
superb  trees,  standing  like  gate-posts,  and  called 
"  the  sentinels."  How  grand  it  would  be  to  see 
these  stately  old  monarchs  bowing  to  each 
other  in  an  earthquake !  You  drive  past  the 
stump  and  a  section  of  the  trunk  of  the  im- 
mense tree  felled  several  years  ago.  It  was  in 
its  prime,  only  about  thirteen  hundred  years 
old,  and  sound  to  the  heart.  Its  fall  shook 
the  grove,  as  Caesar's  fall  shook  Rome.  It  took 
half  a   dozen   men   with   pump-augers   and   wedges 


376  CALIFORNIA. 


twenty-two  days  to  do  the  dreadful  deed.  Over 
the  stump  is  built  a  pavilion,  dedicated  to  re- 
ligious services,  political  meetings,  dancing  and 
tea  parties.  It  is  thirty-two  feet  in  diameter. 
Were  it  in  Rhode  Island,  it  would  be  large 
enough  for  all  campaign  purposes  ;  you  could 
"  swing  round  the  circle "  on  it,  and  stump  the 
State. 

The  tallest  tree  now  standing  is  the  Key- 
stone State,  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  ; 
but  one  of  the  fallen  trees,  the  largest  and  best 
preserved,  looked  to  have  been  much  taller, 
perhaps  from  its  position.  Abraham  Lincoln 
never  looked  so  tall  as  when  he  lay  under  the 
dome  of  the  Capitol,  dead.  This  grand  old  tree, 
lying  in  state  under  the  blue  dome  of  the  sky, 
had  for  me  something  of  the  rugged  majesty  and 
awful  repose  of  that  ungainly,  pathetic  figure, 
which  we  remember  with  smiles  that  soften  into 
tears,  and  tears  that  brighten  into  smiles.  The 
sturdy  tree  must  also  have  gone  down  in  or 
after  a  great  tempest.  It  fell  up  hill,  but  is 
very  little  broken.  By  a  ladder  at  the  root  you 
can    mount    the   trunk,    and   walk   all   the   way   by 


THE    GIANT    GROVE.  377 

a  good  trail  to  the  topmost  branches.  It  is  like 
following  the  Nile  to  its  source.  In  truth,  it  is 
rather  a  fatiguing  and  perilous  expedition,  as 
portions  of  the  tree  are  very  slippery.  A  rail- 
way up  there  would  be  an  improvement,  —  a 
grand  trunk  railroad.  The  route  seemed  to  me 
quite  practicable  :  the  grade  is  not  heavy  ;  there 
would  be  but  little  trestle-work  required  at  the 
breaks,  and  only  a  few  sharp  curves,  around 
knots.     The    larger   limbs    could    be    tunnelled. 

There  are  here  some  curious  hollow  trees,  — 
snug  retreats  for  disappointed  spirits,  flying  from 
the  more  hollow  outside  world ;  and  there  is  one 
dead  tree  yet  standing,  called  the  Mother  of 
the  Forest,  which  presents  a  peculiarly  melan- 
choly, not  to  say  ghastly,  appearance,  it  having 
been  actually  flayed  alive  some  years  ago. 
Think  of  a  skin  eighteen  inches  thick,  cuticle 
and  cutis,  being  stripped  from  one  hundred  and 
sixteen  feet  of  a  poor  old  mother's  body,  —  and 
in  this  climate  too  !  Of  course,  she  died.  The 
impious  speculators  took  the  skin  to  the  Syden- 
ham. Crystal  Palace,  where  it  was  burned,  —  and 
served    them    right. 


378  CALIFORNIA. 


The  only  woman,  beside  this  unfortunate 
"  mother,"  who  has  been  distinctly  honored  by 
having  a  tree  dedicated  to  her,  is  Florence 
Nightingale,  whose  name  naturally  associates 
itself    with   a  grove. 

The  Church  is  nobly  represented  by  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  and  Thomas  Starr  King ;  the 
State,  by  Webster,  Clay,  and  Cobden  ;  the  Litera- 
ture, by  Bryant  ;  the  Presidency,  by  Washington, 
Jackson,  Lincoln,  and  Grant.  The  last  is  a 
solid,  stately  tree,  two  hundred  and  sixty-one 
feet  high.  It  seems  perfectly  sound,  and  may 
stand  a  good  five  hundred  years,  unless  flayers, 
choppers,    and    augerers   prove   too    much   for   it. 

Here,  as  at  Mariposa,  we  noticed  the  diminu- 
tive size  of  the  cone  of  the  Sequoia  Gigantea. 
If  proportioned  to  the  tree,  it  would  be  about 
as  large  as  a  flour-barrel.  But  Nature,  who 
showed  a  tender  regard  for  our  heads  in  declin- 
ing to  hang  pumpkins  on  oaks  instead  of  acorns, 
has  shown  equal  consideration  in  this  case.  As 
I  looked  up  into  the  lofty  gloom  of  the  dark 
branches,  I  wondered  if  little  birds  ever  nested 
so    high     up.     It     seemed     that     only     eagles     be- 


THE     SILENCE     OF     THE     GREAT     TREES.  379 


longed  there.  It  was  a  breezy  day,  yet  I  lis- 
tened in  vain  for  the  sea-like  surge,  the  sough- 
ing of  the  wind  among  those  mighty  branches, — 
lateral  trees.  No  distinct  piny  murmur  came 
down  to  me,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
sound  they  give  forth  in  their  upper  solitudes  is 
in  proportion  to  their  size,  so  unbending  and 
immutable  they  seem.  Sorrowful,  but  majestic; 
elect,  apart,  lonely,  lordly  monuments  of  the  sol- 
emn, silent  ages,  they  surely  do  not  make  the 
ado  of  lesser  conifers, — answering  every  imperti- 
nent gust,  complaining  of  every  summer  storm. 
But  if  we  were  lifted  up  nearer  to  their  dark 
tops,  we  could  perhaps  hear  a  sad,  incessant  mon- 
otone, a  low  murmur  of  weariness  and  unrest, 
out  of  the  midst  of  rigid  stateliness  and  sombre 
grandeur ;  the  low  sob  of  a  passion  of  strug- 
gle and  aspiring,  spent  centuries  ago  ;  a  plaint, 
proud  but  patient,  that  were  like  a  sigh  from 
the  burdened  heart  of  the  earth.  We  might 
hear  at  twilight  mysterious  whispers  of  old  element- 
al tragedies  ;  of  primeval  portents  and  convulsions  ; 
of  the  blaze  of  comets  and  the  murk  of  eclipse ; 
of  star-showers  and  tornadoes,  that  never  had 
human   chronicler   in   all   the  wild   continent. 


380  CALIFORNIA. 


About  five  miles  from  the  hotel  is  the  South 
Calaveras  Grove,  but  lately  made  accessible  by  a 
trail.  It  contains  more  than  a  thousand  Sequoias, 
some  of  them  of  stupendous  size.  Here,  it  is  said, 
sixteen  horsemen  may  be  seen  slowly  ascending  a 
hill,  and  congregating  in  the  hollow  of  a  single 
tree  at  one  time.  Did  the  genius  of  James  ever 
conjure  up  a  scene  more  novel  and  strange  ?  I 
was  grieved  that  time  did  not  allow  of  my  seeing 
this  wonderful  grove,  being  obliged  to  return  to 
Murphy's  that  night.  This  is  the  best  place  to 
procure  a  tarantula's  nest,  —  a  curious  little  adobe 
house,  hung  with  white  paper  with  satin  finish ; 
having  a  round  door  swinging  on  a  perfect  hinge. 
You  can  purchase  one  with  the  tarantula  shut  up 
in  it,  if  you  are  willing  to  take  charge  of  such  an 
ugly  prisoner,  and  run  the  risk  of  his  breaking 
jail  and  being  the  death  of  you. 

The  first  place  of  any  note  on  our  next  day's 
journey  to  San  Francisco  was  Angel's  Camp,  the 
naming  of  which  was  a  profane  piece  of  irony.  I 
remember  noticing  at  a  store,  before  which  we 
stopped  for  a  moment,  a  large  lot  of  pitchforks, 
which  struck  us  as  rather  an  incongruous  commodity. 


"the   house  called   beautiful."         381 

Here  we  took  in  a  substantial  Dutch  angel  and 
a  pair  of  cherubs,  who  beguiled  our  way  by  sing- 
ing Sunday-school  hymns.  With  all  these  evan- 
gelical alleviations,  Jordan  was  still  a  hard  road  to 
travel,  —  stony,  dusty,  bare  of  shade.  The  day  was 
excessively  warm  ;  our  "  stage-coach  "  a  mere  "  mud- 
wagon  " ;  there  was  absolutely  nothing  of  interest 
on  our  way,  except  a  few  rich  ranches,  vast  and 
lonely  ;  and  when  finally  we  struck  the  railroad  at 
Milton,  we  were  in  a  mood  to  bless  fervently  the 
"heathen  Chinee,"  the  Wilmington  Car  Manufac- 
tory, the  memory  of  Watt,  and  the  name  of  Stan- 
ford. 

My  last  visit  in  California  was  made  where  I 
made  my  first,  —  at  beautiful  Glenwood,  the  home 
of  Mr.  Ralston.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  take  again, 
even  though  we  knew  it  to  be  for  the  last  time, 
those  incomparable  drives,  over  perfect  roads,  and 
through  the  gardens  and  parks  of  the  noblest 
country-seats  on  the  coast ;  to  see  all  these  won- 
derful places  in  their  full  summer  glory ;  and  to 
enjoy  with  it  all  the  matchless  driving  of  our  host, 
who  manages  fine  horses  and  finances  in  the  same 
masterly    way.       How    cruelly    fast    were    all    the 


382  CALIFORNIA, 


watches  that  day ;  and  how  the  hours  tore  along, 
Hke  the  dishevelled  young  ladies  in  Guide's  pic- 
ture, and  brought  the  sad  moment  when  I  must 
pass  for  the  last  time  through  the  hospitable  doors 
of  the  "  house  called  Beautiful "  !  Not  its  wealth 
and  luxury  had  so  endeared  it  to  me,  but  a  heart 
that  was  richer  than  riches  ;  a  face  fairer  to  me 
in  the  light  of  its  full-orbed  womanhood  and  gen- 
tle motherhood  than  the  fairest  pictured  faces  on 
the  walls.  Madonna,  —  my  lady!  strong  and  ten- 
der, proud  and  gracious. 

At  Glenwood  I  met  again  the  friends  with  whom 
I  was  to  make  the  overland  journey, —  Mr.  Sickels, 
the  superintendent  of  the  Union  Pacific,  and  his 
family  party.  With  these  pleasant  companions  I 
left  San  Francisco  on  the  24th  of  June.  At  Oak- 
land, where  the  superintendent's  car  awaited  us, 
we  were  joined  by  Mr.  Joaquin  Miller,  poet  of  the 
Sierras,  who  was  going  East  with  some  new  wild- 
mountain  airs,  and  looking  more  high -booted, 
haughty,  and  hirsute  than  ever. 

I  will  not  here  attempt  to  describe  with  what 
emotion  I  looked  for  the  last  time  back,  over  the 
bright    bay,    to    the    new   city    of    my   love,    rising 


FAREWELL    TO    THE    GOLDEN    GATE.  383 

terrace  upon  terrace,  and  hill  above  hill,  —  some- 
what too  bare  of  foliage  and  decoration,  —  proud 
and  rugged  and  a  little  defiant  of  aspect,  but  of 
young  cities  "the  chief  among  ten  thousand,"  if 
not  "  the  one  altogether  lovely,"  —  the  royal  wed- 
ding-place of  the  Occident  and  the  Orient. 


HOMEWARD    JOURNEY. 

COLORADO    REVISITED. 

Chicago,  July  lo,  1872. 

I  CHOSE  a  beautiful  season  for  leaving  Cali- 
fornia,—  too  beautiful,  for  it  intensified  my  re- 
gret. I  went,  even  homeward,  with  a  backward 
tug  at  my  heart.  Though  on  the  edge  of  July, 
the  land  was  still  radiant  with  fresh  verdure 
and  bloom.  Of  the  wild  flowers  along  the  road, 
the  yellow  were  holding  out  best.  By  the  way, 
the  prevalence  of  this  color  in  California  land- 
scapes is  always  noticeable,  —  as  it  were  the  floral 
symbol  of  the  aureate  treasure  hid  under  so  much 
of  the  soil  for  so  many  centuries.  Nature,  being 
feminine,  was  bursting  with  the  secret,  and  sent 
forth  these  beautiful  little  telltales ;  but  stupid 
man  was  long  enough  in  taking  the  hint,  and 
following   it    up,    or,    rather,    down. 

Flower-gardens,     harvest -fields,     vineyards,    or- 
chards, oak  groves,  pine  forests,  mines,  rocks,  snow- 


TO    THE    ROCKY     MOUNTAIN     SUMMIT.  385 

sheds,  —  these  were  the  gradations,  like  steps,  by 
which  we  ascended  from  the  lovely  valley-land 
to  the  grand  Sierras.  It  was  early  twilight  when 
we  rounded  Cape  Horn,  scarcely  realizing  its 
terrific  grandeur  when  thus  softened.  Night  came 
on  very  slowly,  with  almost  imperceptibly  chan- 
ging and  deepening  shades  of  purple  light,  veiling 
those  sublime  solitudes  in  tender  mystery.  We 
sat  out  on  the  platform  till  late  that  night,  and 
for  nights  after,  never  wearying  of  the  wide, 
wild  waste  of  silent  earth,  and  the  vast,  strange 
expanse  of  brooding,  breathless  sky.  Even  after 
the  Yosemite,  we  found  the  Valley  of  the  Great 
Salt  Lake,  the  Wasatch  Hills,  and  Weber  and 
Echo  Canons  beautiful,  more  beautiful  than  ever 
before;  for  a  genuine  love  of  grand  scenery  "grows 
by  what  it  feeds  on "  ;  so  when  we  came  again  to 
the  familiar  snowy  peaks  -and  sombre  gorges  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  we  found  we  had  "  stom- 
ach for  them  all."  I  believe  the  wind  is  always  in 
full  blast  at  Sherman,  and  that  Cheyenne  always 
seems  like  a  place  of  desperate  undertakings  and 
temporary  expedients,  —  has  a  strange  look  of  new- 
ness   and    abandonment,    half   underdone  and    half 


386  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 

undone.  The  one  finished  and  flourishing  and 
thoroughly  satisfactory  thing  they  have  there  is 
the   new   hotel. 

All  the  way  from  the  Summit  down,  at  every 
exposed  point  we  found  new  precautions  against 
snow  and  ice,  —  immense  sheds  and  fences,  line 
on  line,  being  built,  and  cuts  widened,  putting 
another  snow  blockade  like  that  of  last  winter 
out  of  the  question.  At  Cheyenne  we  left  the 
Union  for  the  Denver  Pacific,  and  ran  down  into 
Colorado  for  a  week's  visit.  It  was  a  glorious 
little  journey.  The  plains  I  had  always  before 
seen  dry  and  tawny  were  now  green  and  flowery 
and  fragrant  ;  and  that  magnificent  line  of  moun- 
tains at  our  right,  beginning  with  Long's  Peak 
and  ending  with  the  legendary  Pike's  Peak,  stood 
out  in  wondrous  beauty,  unveiled  by  smoke  or 
mist.  The  sunset  was  the  most  joyous  I  ever 
beheld,  wrapping  that  vast  congregation  of  peaks 
and  domes  in  unimaginable,  almost  intolerable 
splendor ;  and  all  the  while,  in  the  eastern  sky, 
was  a  wondrous  display  of  storm-clouds,  lightnings, 
and  rainbows.  Such  a  grand  combination  show 
I    never   before   beheld    in    any    theatre. 


GREELEY    AND     DENVER.  387 

The  unique  town  of  Greeley,  capital  of  the 
Union  Colony,  we  found  much  improved.  It  had 
gone  on  adding  field  to  field,  and  ditch  to  ditch, 
and  putting  up  buildings  in  all  directions,  —  cosy 
houses,  which  already  were  girt  about  with  pleas- 
ant gardens.  Indeed,  the  thriving  place  is  some- 
thing quite  cheering  to  see,  —  a  smile  on  the  wide, 
dull   cactus   waste. 

Denver  still  leads  the  march  of  empire  in 
Colorado.  They  have  street-railways  here  now. 
During  the  past  year  they  have  put  up  new 
railroad  buildings,  hosts  of  stores,  and  innumer- 
able hotels.  They  have  graded  streets,  and 
planted  trees,  and  built  a  new  church,  and 
painted    the  front   of    the   old    theatre. 

I  was  one  of  a  happy  party  of  tourists  for 
whom  Mr.  Supenntendent  Sickels  planned  and 
conducted  a  charming  excursion  up  Clear  Creek 
Caiion,  over  the  bed  of  the  new  narrow-gauge 
railroad,  a  section  of  the  Colorado  Central,  run- 
ning from  Golden  to  Blackhawk.  It  was  a  per- 
fect summer  day,  bright  but  breezy ;  and  our 
gay  party  made  the  trip  of  twelve  miles,  by 
carriage    and    on    horseback,  with   the    utmost   com- 


388  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 


fort,  with  absolutely  unalloyed  enjoyment.  This 
canon  has  some  grand  points  of  scenery,  even 
reminding  one  of  the  Yosemite.  But  grand  as 
it  is,  it  scarcely  diverts  your  attention,  your 
wondering  admiration,  from  the  road  that  winds 
and  climbs  along  the  deep,  narrow  gorge,  where,  a 
year  ago,  it  seemed  that  a  mule  trail  was  scarce- 
ly practicable.  To  Mr.  Sickels  is  due  the  chief 
credit  of  projecting  and  executing  this  bold  en- 
terprise, —  a  work  of  immense  importance  to 
Colorado  in  the  development  of  her  vast  mineral 
resources.  Down  this  shadowy  canon,  till  now 
only  the  bed  of  devastating  wintry  floods,  will 
pour  the  boundless  wealth  of  the  great  moun- 
tain mines.  Through  the  magnificent  rocky  gate- 
way of  little  Golden  City  will  issue  a  new  Pac- 
tolus,  whose  waves  may  touch  the  far  shores  of 
the   world. 

We  found  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  nar- 
row gauge  just  completed  to  Pueblo,  one  hun- 
dred and  sixteen  miles  ;  and  another  pleasant 
incident  of  our  visit  was  an  excursion  to  that 
town,  where  a  grand  entertainment,  a  dinner 
followed   by   a   ball,  was   given   to   all    Denver  and 


THE    NEW    NARROW-GAUGE    ROAD.  389 


the  rest  of  mankind.  Pueblo  is  on  the  Arkansas 
River,  which  is  even  here  a  full,  rapid  stream. 
The  town  has  picturesque  surroundings,  but  lacks 
trees,  gardens,  and  pleasant,  home-like  places 
sadly.  With  plenty  of  water  at  hand,  it  may 
easily  be  made  a  more  attractive  spot.  The  din- 
ner, which  was  given  in  the  new  Court  House,  a 
very  handsome  building,  by  the  way,  was  a  most 
enjoyable  affair.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  after  set- 
ting the  most  generous  of  "  grub-piles "  before 
us,  waited  on  us  at  table.  I  am  persuaded  that 
a  future  governor  stood  more  than  once  be- 
hind my  chair,  and  that  a  senator's  wife  brought 
me  ice-cream.  We  had  fine  music  and  witty 
sentiments,  and  eloquence  and  merriment  un- 
stinted. 

This  section  of  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande 
Railroad  runs  through  the  most  picturesque  por- 
tion of  Colorado,  outside  the  mountains,  —  over 
the  Divide ;  past  wonderful  rocks  of  castellated 
and  monumental  forms ;  along  lovely  green  val- 
leys ;  and  for  some  distance  in  sight  of  the  great, 
snowy  range.  Colorado  Springs  Station  and  the 
colony  of  that  name   are   on    this   road,  though  the 


39°  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 

springs  proper  are  some  five  miles  away.  Near 
the  station  is  a  good  hotel,  where  we  spent  a 
night,  sleeping  deliciously  under  the  shadow  of  Pike's 
Peak  and  a  couple  of  blankets.  All  the  morning 
of  the  next  day  was  spent  in  drives  to  the  most 
attractive  points  in  the  vicinity.  We  first  visited 
Glen  Eyrie,  a  lovely,  romantic  spot,  in  which 
General  Palmer  has  built  an  elegant  country- 
house.  In  this  glen  are  congregated  and  shut 
away  marvels  and  beauties  of  rock  and  gorge, 
stream  and  waterfall,  enough  to  stocT^:  an  Eastern 
State  like  New  Jersey.  We  next  dropped  into 
the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  a  wild,  singular,  nat- 
ural park,  the  gateway  of  which  is  formed  by 
two  stupendous  rocks,  marvelously  architectural 
and  cathedral-like  in  character.  They  always 
look  solemn  and  worshipful,  and  there  is  cer- 
tainly no  hollow  mockery  of  religion  about 
them. 

The  famous  mineral  springs  at  Manitou  have 
delightful  surroundings,  and  we  found  the  waters 
exceedingly  pleasant  and  sparkling.  But  a  mile  or 
so  up  the  lovely  canon  of  the  Fountain  Creek  is  an 
iron    spring,   which     I    found     absolutely   delicious. 


VIEWS    OF    DISTRACTING    LOVELINESS.  391 


I  should  haunt  that,  should  camp  beside  it, 
were  I  spending  a  summer  in  this  grand  half- 
way heaven  of  pure  air  and  pure  water  and 
tenderly  tempered  sunshine.  There  is  in  this 
neighborhood  a  wild,  rocky  gorge,  known  as 
the  Ute  Pass,  up  which  a  wonderful  road  has 
been  lately  constructed.  Shut  away  in  this  pass  is 
one  of  the  finest  waterfalls  I  have  ever  seen.  Be- 
side its  plunging  and  thundering  flood  Southey's 
Lodore  were  a  trickle  and  a  murmur.  Through 
Colorado  City,  once  a  very  important  mining 
depot,  but  now  in  its  decadence,  we  returned  to 
our  hotel,  the  glorious  morning  over,  but  not  gone. 

The  monotony  of  our  return  journey  to  Denver 
was  varied  by  a  ride  of  some  thirty  miles  on  the 
pilot,  or  cow-catcher.  The  situation  gave  a  rare 
opportunity  to  study  the  lovely  and  peculiar  scen- 
ery of  the  route,  with  distant  pictures  of  mountain 
and  sky  ;  but  for  myself,  I  must  confess  that  my 
attention  was  a  good  deal  distracted  by  occasional 
water-views  through  trestle-work  below  us,  and 
spirited    cattle-pieces   on    the   track   before   us. 

We  left  Denver  on  the  morning  of  the  glorious 
Fourth,   and   ran  a  gantlet  of  salutes,  roqkets,  and 


392  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 


fire-crackers  all  the  way  to  Omaha,  where  ended 
my  journeyings  over  Pacific  railroads  in  a  director's 
car. 

But  it  really  does  not  seem  quite  the  thing  to 
dismiss  the  great  trip  so  lightly  and  quietly.  I 
feel  bound  to  give  something  like  a  detail  of  its 
hardships  and  privations,  after  the  manner  of  old 
trans-continental  travelers.  This  may  seem  a  little 
ungracious  toward  the  superintendent,  whose  guests 
we  were ;  but  independent  itinerant  journalists  are 
held  by  no  such  ordinary  scruples.  The  "bridge 
that  carries  them  safe  over  "  comes  in  for  a  double 
share  of  dispraise  usually. 

Fortunately  our  party  started  with  the  idea  of 
"roughing  it,"  and  so  were  able  to  take  things  as 
they  came,  being  all  tolerably  good-humored  peo- 
ple. But  we  had  our  trials.  In  the  first  place, 
our  car  was  fastened  to  the  tail  of  an  immense 
train,  and  took  the  brunt  of  the  wagging.  Our 
coffee  and  tea  were  frequently  slopped  over  at 
table.  As  to  the  table,  though  it  was  always 
bountifully  supplied,  it  was  not,  I  must  say,  as 
elegantly  and  thoroughly  appointed  as  one  could 
wish.      There   was   no   ^pei-gne,   no   printed    bill   of 


ROUGHING    IT    BY     RAIL.  393 

fare.  There  were  no  finger-glasses,  and  the  sup- 
ply of  nut-crackers  was  limited.  There  was  not 
even  a  full  assortment  of  wine-glasses  ;  and  when, 
on  the  Summit,  Mr.  Joaquin  Miller  treated  to 
champagne,  we  were  obliged  to  worry  it  down  out 
of  lemonade  goblets.  We  had,  of  course,  napkins, 
but  the  rings  were  evidently  of  plated  ware.  A 
pretty  idea  would  have  been  a  set  of  solid  silver 
lined  with  gold,  each  one  engraved  with  the  name 
of  a  guest  of  the  superintendent  of  the  Union 
Pacific,  and  designed  to  be  taken  away  as  a  sig- 
nificant souvenir  of  California  and  Colorado.  When 
a  man  sets  out  to  do  a  handsome  thing,  I  like  to 
see  him  do  it. 

It  is  true  that  we  had  for  desserts  and  lunches 
a  large  variety  of  fruits  and  nuts, —  too  large,  if 
anything.  We  became  satiated  with  oranges,  ba- 
nanas, apricots,  strawberries,  peaches,  and  cherries  ; 
but  I  missed  blackberries  and  pears,  my  favorite 
fruit ;  and  the  almonds  were  all  hard-shelled,  and 
1  decidedly  prefer  the  soft.  The  milk  and  eggs 
were  not  as  rich  and  fresh  as  they  might  have 
been  if  a  new-milch  cow  and  a  hennery  had  been 
attached  to  the  car.  Our  party  of  ten  was  put 
17* 


394  HOMEWARD    JOURNEY. 

upon  a  rather  short  allowance  of  servants,  having 
only  Henry  the  cook,  and  Thomas  the  excellent 
colored  steward.  It  is  but  justice  to  them,  how- 
ever, to  say  that  they  multiplied  themselves  by 
the  utmost  devotion,  energy,  and  ingenuity.  They 
constantly  surprised  us  with  new  dishes  and  de- 
coctions, putting  us  in  peril  of  surfeit  and  all  the 
horrors  of  dyspepsia.  On  the  last  morning  of  the 
trip  we  had  set  before  us  fish,  steak,  chops,  ham 
and  eggs,  corn-bread,  light  biscuit,  and  pineapple 
pancakes.  How  in  the  name  of  Dio  Lewis  were 
we  to  choose  ?  In  an  agony  of  indecision  we  ap- 
pealed to  the  steward,  but  he  answered  by  a  mute, 
diabolic  grin  ;  so  we  partook  of  all,  not  willing  to 
hurt  his  feelings ;  for  was  he  not  a  man  and  a 
voter  ?  At  such  times  we  thought  enviously  of 
the  old  emigrants  camping  on  the  plains.  How 
simple  their  choice :  black  coffee,  saleratus-bread, 
and  bacon,  or  bacon,  saleratus-bread,  and  black 
coffee  !  However,  we  uttered  no  complaint  of  our 
fare ;  but  I  remember  that  one  morning  when  we 
had  ordered  chops  and  expected  chops,  we  had  steak 
without  mushrooms,  and  on  that  very  day  the 
soup   was    too    salt.      Our    sleeping    arrangements 


HARDSHIPS     OF     THE     OVERLAND     ROUTE.       395 

were  comfortable,  but  not  exactly  sumptuous.  The 
linen,  though  always  clean  and  well  aired,  was  not 
superfine,  the  pillow-cases  being  quite  plain.  The 
towels  in  the  dressing-room,  though  plentiful,  were 
by  no  means  of  the  daintiest  sort.  In  the  sa- 
ponaceous line,  I  found  nothing  more  rich  and 
rare  than  Colgate's  Honey  Soap.  Now,  if  there 
is  anything  I  am  tired  of,  it  is  Colgate's  Honey 
Soap.  In  the  evening  we  gathered  in  the  little 
drawing-room,  and  were  almost  compelled  to  be 
sociable,  as  the  light,  neither  of  gas  nor  of  wax- 
candles,  scarcely  permitted  of  our  reading.  In  the 
day  we  had  so  much  room  that  we  wandered  aim- 
lessly about,  lounging  on  the  sofas  and  platforms, 
no  one  of  us  seeming  to  know  where  he  or  she 
really  belonged,  —  a  most  unsettled  and  demoral- 
ized condition,  but  aristocratic,  doubtless.  We 
tried  not  to  be  puffed  up,  and,  when  stopping  at 
stations,  went  forth  in  rough  hats  and  dusters, 
and  mingled  with  our  fellow-beings,  remembering 
the  days  when  we,  too,  had  traveled  with  tickets 
and  passes,  had  been  called  on  to  pay  for  extra 
baggage,  and  had  been  obliged  to  bolt  down  exe- 
crable meals. 


39^  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 


We  were  whirled  along  so  relentlessly  over 
that  world-renowned  overland  route  that  we  had 
no  time  to  study  its  geological  features,  its 
faicna  or  its  flora.  Often  we  thought  of  the 
old  emigrants,  who  sometimes  had  six  months 
in  which  to  become  familiar  with  it  in  all  its 
changing  phases.  How  we  would  have  liked 
to  visit  some  of  the  graves  along  that  old  emi- 
grant track,  with  time  to  drop  a  few  tears  on 
the  deserted  hunting-grounds  of  the  noble  red 
man !  We  had  wild  longings  to  lie  by  at  night, 
like  those  old  emigrants,  and  study  the  stars 
and  hear  the  coyotes  howl,  while  the  sage-brush 
camp-fire  burned.  Mr.  Joaquin  Miller  once  point- 
ed out  to  us  the  scene  of  an  old  Indian  fight, 
whereof  he  bears  a  reminder  in  one  of  his  arms, 
somewhat  troublesome  in  damp  weather.  For  a 
poet,  and  a  philanthropist  of  the  Vincent  Colyer 
school,  he  seems  to  have  had  a  large  number  of 
"scrimmages"  of  this  sort.  But  no  such  romantic 
adventure  broke  the  monotony  of  our  journey 
across  the  plains.  Not  a  Piute  menaced  us,  not 
a  Digger  defied  us.  We  tried  to  keep  up  our 
spirits,     however.      We    told    stories    and    laughed 


A     SILENT     MINSTREL.  397 


at  each  other's  jests,  whatever  it  cost  us.  We 
laughed  most  generously  at  the  superintendent's 
pleasantries,  of  course.  They  were  not  bad  ;  but 
if  they  had  been,  we  should  have  laughed  all 
the  same,  having  made  up  our  minds  to  rough 
it.  Though  we  had  a  minstrel  at  the  festive 
board,  he  harped  not,  neither  did  he  sing.  He  was 
apparently  in  low  spirits  at  leaving  his  Sierras. 
Crossing  the  alkali  desert  is  also  depressing, 
inclining  even  a  poet  to  keep  his  mouth  shut ; 
but  when  we  struck  the  grand  Rocky  Range, 
something  in  the  poetic  line  was  expected  from 
him.  Still  he  kept  his  place  on  the  platform  in 
sombre  silence,  smoking  cigarettes  under  the 
shade  of  a  huge  Panama.  We  suspected  that 
he  was  secretly  wrestling  with  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  that  they  were  having  rather  the  best 
of  it.  But  if  our  wild  singer  warbled  not,  he 
wrote  many  autographs,  —  triumphs  of  illegibility. 
The  motion  of  a  train  is  not  usually  favorable 
to  the  production  of  elegant  articles  of  this  sort. 
In  fact,  the  only  handwriting  I  have  ever  known 
improved  by  it  is  that  of  Mr.  Greeley.  It  were 
a   good    idea  when   a   celebrity   is   on   the   rail    to 


398  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 

Stop     the     train     now     and     then     and    announce, 
"  Twenty    minutes   for   autographs  !  " 

The  superintendent  was  annoyed  by  telegrams, 
and  we  were  all  troubled  by  the  train  outrun- 
ning our  watches.  We  missed  our  morning  pa- 
pers, and  were  really  obliged  to  look  through 
some  of  the  books  we  had  with  us.  We  were 
cheered  by  no  visits  from  venders  of  figs  and 
candy  cash-boxes  ;  we  were  cut  off,  in  our  haughty 
isolation,  from  the  companionship  of  young  chil- 
dren and  innocent  babies.  I  one  day  rashly 
borrowed  a  dear  little  fellow  from  a  lady  who 
had  a  fine  assortment  of  small  boys.  I  bore  him, 
with  the  help  of  conductors  and  brakemen,  from 
the  first  Pullman  through,  it  seemed  to  me,  a 
mile-  of  cars,  under  full  headway,  down  grade,  to 
our  palatial  establishment.  He  gazed  around  the 
sumptuous  apartment,  and,  chilled  by  its  cold 
splendor,  immediately  wanted  to  "  go  home." 
We  showed  him  a  bottled  tarantula  and  gave 
him  a  horned  toad  to  play  with  ;  but  they  failed 
to  console  him,  and  we  were  compelled  to  return 
him  to  his  mother.  He  retained  our  toad  to 
frighten   his   little   brother   with,   and   we   left    him 


MARK    TAPLEIAN    SERENITY.  399 

happy.  On  the  whole,  we  got  along  very  well 
on  our  long,  hard,  precipitate  pilgrimage.  Being 
all  old  travellers,  and,  as  I  said,  rather  good-na- 
tured people,  we  did  not  quarrel  about  the  easi- 
est seats.  I  suppose  they  were  all  what  you 
would  call  comfortable,  though,  if  roughing  it  had 
not  been  in  the  programme,  a  velvet  rocking- 
chair  or  two  would  not  have  been  out  of  place 
in  the  little  salon  where  we  spent  much  of  our 
time.  Still,  we  came  into  Omaha  quite  fresh, 
and  were  sorry  to  separate,  and  especially  to  part 
from  our  kind  host  and  hostess  and  their  sweet 
young  daughters,  who  had  cheerfully  roughed  it 
with  us,  day  and  night,  across  deserts  and  moun- 
tain ranges,  from  San  Francisco  Bay  to  the 
Missouri  River, —  almost  across  the  continent. 

But  now  I  come  to  a  theme  which  is  both  too 
grave  and  too  grand,  too  sad  and  too  glad,  to  jest 
over,  —  the  desolation  and  the  resurrection  of  Chi- 
cago. The  morning  after  my  return  to  the  city 
of  my  old  love,  I  drove  over  the  entire  burned  dis- 
trict. The  North  side,  once  so  fair  and  flourishing, 
is  still  very  desolate,  though  showing  life  here  and 
there,   amid  the   ruins   of  its  elegant  homes,  noble 


400  HOMEWARD     JOURNEY. 

churches,  and  beautiful  parks  ;  but  the  South  side 
is  a  marvelous,  bewildering  scene  of  industry  and 
enterprise,  of  almost  superhuman  energy.  Not  the 
story  of  Chicago's  early  life  of  Titanic  toil  and 
struggle,  when  she  rose,  like  a  second  Venice, 
from  the  midst  of  a  dark  flood,  and  then  banished 
the  flood  ;  not  the  marvels  she  wrought  under  the 
sea  ;  not  the  miracle  of  turning  a  river  on  its  im- 
memorial course,  of  smiting  the  nether  rock  and 
calling  water  from  the  vasty  deep  ;  not  all  its 
wondrous  transformations,  enterprises,  and  victo- 
ries have  equalled  this  brave,  stern  struggle  with 
immeasurable  misfortune,  this  triumphant  upris- 
ing from  defeat  and  desolation.  I  believe  that  the 
world  can  present  no  grander  sight  than  this  ;  and 
remembering  the  sadness,  the  utter  heart-sickness 
with  which  I  named  the  name  of  Chicago  less 
than  a  year  ago,  I  thank  God  that  I  am  per- 
mitted to  see  her  at  this  great  time,  when  she  is 
shaking  the  ashes  from  her  unblanched  head,  and 
setting  upon  it  again,  with  her  own  strong  hand, 
her  noble  civic  crown. 


COLORADO   IN   AUTUMN. 


Greeley,  Colorado,  November  5,  1872. 

IT  is  odd  to  be  here,  of  all  places  in  the  Ter- 
ritory ;  on  this  day,  of  all  days  in  the  year,  — 
day  "  big  with  the  fate  of  CEEsar  and  of  Rome," 
day  which  is  to  decide  forever  the  destiny  of  that 
eminent  citizen  whose  name  is  identified  with 
this  noble  young  colony.  Whatever  the  result 
of  the  great  political  struggle  in  the  States,  here 
Horace  Greeley  is  the  elect  man,  with  no  question 
of  a  second  term.  Here  his  honorable  fame 
will  grow  with  the  fortunes  of  an  intelligent  and 
industrious  community,  and  faithful  irrigation  shall 
keep  his   memory  green. 

A  more  peaceful  retreat  could  scarcely  be  found 
at  this  eventful  and  tumultuous  time,  by  a  quiet, 
unenfranchised  citizen  like  your  correspondent. 
Not  a  surge  of  popular  excitement  penetrates  to 
these   flat    shores,    not   an  echo  of  the   roar  of  the 


402  COLORADO     IN    AUTUMN. 

great  conflict  rouses  or  vexes  our  souls.  Even 
the  Liberals,  though  anticipating  the  defeat  of 
their  party  in  the  States,  do  not  seem  as  much 
cast  down  as  you  would  expect.  The  old  Happy 
Valley  of  Rasselas  could  hardly  seem  more  shut 
away  from  the  world  of  political  strife  and  as- 
piration than  this  busy  young  town,  with  tributary 
rivers  and  vast,  snowy  mountains  on  one  side  of 
it,  and  railways  and  an  infinity  of  sky  and  plain 
on  the  other.  Here  men  and  women  are  to-day 
on  an  absolute  equality,  —  an  equality  of  "  no  con- 
sequence "  to  the  State.  Here  man  and  wife  do 
not  even  count  one.  I  rather  like  it :  it  is  good 
discipline   for   the   men. 

I  have  now  spent  more  than  a  month  in  Col- 
orado,—  more  than  a  month  of  determined  and 
unmitigated  idleness.  I  came  in  search  of  the 
health  lost  in  your  dreadful  Eastern  summer, 
and  have,  I  trust,  found  it.  But  though  return- 
ing strength  has  brought  with  it  constant  and 
almost  ungovernable  impulses  toward  outdoor  life, 
wandering  and  climbing,  and  vagabondizing  gener- 
ally, it  brings  no  inclination  toward  mental  exer- 
tion of  any  kind.     "  I  kin  work,  but  I    don't  hanker 


TAKING    THE    BACK     TRACK.  403 

arter  it,"  in  this  bracing,  bright,  resplendent  au- 
tumn sunshine,  and  under  these  deep,  sparkling, 
frosty   November   nights. 

It  was  on  the  ist  of  October  that  we  left 
Chicago.  We  had  just  been  visited  by  a  severe 
storm,  and  the  air,  both  of  lake  and  prairie,  had 
a  peculiar  vindictive  sharpness  and  rawness  that 
cut  into  weak  lungs  savagely,  and  pierced  to  the 
very  marrow  of  one's  bones.  It  was  not  till  we 
passed  the  Missouri  that  the  chill  and  the  damp- 
ness quite  disappeared,  and  the  air,  though  cool, 
became  balmy,  at  night  frosty,  but  kindly,  at 
the  same  time  exhilarating  and  soothing.  Courage 
came  back  to  me  on  every  invisible  wave  of  the 
boundless,  aerial  sea  of  the  plains.  I  was  again 
content  with  this  world,  the  goodly,  broad,  gen- 
erous world.  I  was  inclined  to  take  stock  in  this 
life  once  more.  Colorado  still  looked  beautiful  to 
me,  though  "  wildly  clad "  in  russet  brown.  Every 
faintest  green  tinge  had  died  out  of  the  rough 
turf  Every  flower  had  gone  under,  except  an 
occasional  belated  poppy  ;  the  snows  had  descend- 
ed on  Long's  Peak  and  lovely  Mount  Rosalie ; 
and   here  and  there  on  all  the  great  range,  adding 


404  COLORADO     IN     AUTUMN. 

the    last    unimagined    glory    to    the    splendors    of 
sunset   and    sunrise. 

After  a  few  days  of  delicious  rest  at  Denver, 
we  drove  over  to  Boulder,  that  picturesque  little 
town,  nestled  like  a  darling  up  against  the  moun- 
tains. It  was  evening  when  we  arrived  ;  and 
dimly  could  be  discerned  those  famous  rocky  land- 
marks, the  dusty  and  dilapidated  Buttes  ("butes"), 
lying  on  the  plains,  just  where  the  foot-hills 
•kicked  them  off,  some  night,  long  ago.  The  next 
day  we  gave  to  exploring  Boulder  Cailon,  the 
most  beautiful  of  all  the  wonderful  canons  of  Col- 
orado. I  had  seen  it  last  in  midsummer,  when 
the  river  was  high  and  its  banks  green  and  flow- 
ery. Now  the  scene  seemed  almost  new.  The 
autumnal  tints  of  the  foliage,  every  shade  of  red 
and  gold  and  brown,  were  absolutely  transporting, 
—  a  feast,  an  ecstasy,  an  intoxication  of  the  sight. 
And  then  the  mighty,  majestic  rocks  on  either 
side,  softened  by  clinging  vines,  mosses,  and 
lichens,  and  made  beautiful  and  gracious  by  faith- 
ful, adventurous  pines,  climbing  up  everywhere, 
from  base  to  summit.  We  drove  up  some  twelve 
miles,    and  picnicked  in  a   lovely  spot,  in  full  sight 


NARROW  GAUGE  IN  A  NARROW  GORGE.   405 

of  the  magnificent  "  Castle  Rock."  Ah,  the  pic- 
tures above  and  around  and  beneath  us! — preci- 
pice and  pinnacle  of  gray  granite,  with  rich  pur- 
ple shades ;  dark  pines  and  silver  cedars,  and 
golden  willows  ;  and,  at  our  feet,  the  swift,  bright 
stream,  with  its  foaming  rapids  and  fairy  cascades. 
It  was  a  scene  as  impossible  to  describe  as  to 
forget.  It  had  about  it  a  sort  of  august  and 
sacred  loveliness  and  loneliness.  The  spirit  of 
that  serene  mountain  solitude  was  solemn,  yet 
glad.     The  golden  autumnal  silence   praised  God. 

In  strong  contrast  to  Boulder  is  Clear  Creek 
Canon,  up  which  runs  the  Colorado  Central  Nar- 
row Gauge.  We  revisited  this  with  an  excursion 
party  of  journalists  and  railroad  people,  the  guests 
of  the  superintendent  and  chief  engineer,  Mr. 
Sickels.  The  trip  by  rail  was  from  Golden  City 
to  the  present  terminus  of  the  road,  some  seven 
miles  below  Central.  It  was  a  wonderful  little 
expedition.  I  do  not  believe  that  there  are  any 
where  else  in  the  railroad  kingdom  eighteen  consec- 
utive miles  of  such  grand  and  peculiar  scenery. 
Streams  and  waterfalls,  and  tremendous  boulders ; 
mountains     rising    above    mountains,     sombre     and 


406  COLORADO    IN    AUTUMN. 


monstrous  shapes,  brooding  sullenly  over  yet  undis- 
covered   and    unthought-of    treasure     hid    in    their 
hard,   secret   hearts ;    and    the  rocks  that  walled   us 
in,  —  rocks    riven    asunder    in   some    awful,    imme- 
morial    convulsion ;    rocks    in     domes,  and    towers, 
and    turrets,    and    bastions,   and    vast,   vertical   pre- 
cipices ;    rocks    daintily   festooned    by   vines,   white 
with    the   fleecy  tufts    of  the   clambering   clematis ; 
rocks  toiled  over  by  straggling  processions  of  pines ; 
rocks  black,  savage,  and  bare,  save  where  far  up,  in 
hollows    and    crevices,    the   first    snow   of  the   mild 
autumn  rested  and  gleamed  in  the  midday  sunlight. 
The   road   itself,   that   triumph    over  the    faithless 
and    unbelieving,     was     a   perpetual    marvel    to    us 
all,     with    its    skilful    doubling   of    bold    capes,     its 
curves  and   cuts   and   convolutions.      The    day   was 
so   mild   and    still,   that  we   found    an  "  observation 
car"  quite   comfortable,  while   giving    us   admirable 
opportunities    for   seeing   everything    on    our    way. 
Ours   was  a   special    train,  and  not    heavily  freight- 
ed;    yet    the     sturdy    little   engine    toiled    up    the 
steep   grade   with   much  ado,    puffing   and   panting, 
and     wheezing    in    an    asthmatic   way    which   was 
really    quite    distressing.     The    fame    of    this    bold, 


COLORADO  S    FUTURE.  407 

picturesque  route,  the  peculiar  sombre  beauty  of 
this  canon,  now  first  made  accessible  to  tourists, 
will  secure  for  the  little  pioneer  mountain  road 
a  great  amount  of  summer  travel,  and  already 
its  business  is  more  than  it  can  well  dispose  of. 
When  its  continuations  and  tributaries  are  com- 
pleted, trains  will  follow  each  other  up  und  down 
this  canon  like  the  curious  processions  of  ants 
we  have  watched  on  summer  days,  moving  con- 
tinuously up  and  down  a  wall  or  a  tree,  with 
never  a  break  nor  a  collision. 

This  road  will  be  completed  to  Blackhawk, 
about  a  mile  below  Central  City,  by  the  ist  of 
January.  Then  will  begin  its  great  traffic,  con- 
veying ore  to  Golden  and  Denver  to  be  smelted 
and  crushed,  and  carrying  coal  and  merchandise 
to  Central ;  and  when  the  other  proposed  routes  to 
Idaho,  Georgetown,  and  to  the  new  and  rich 
silver  mines  of  the  South  Park  are  completed, 
will  begin  Colorado's  great  days.  Then  she  will 
come  into  possession  of  her  magnificent  birth- 
right, her  imperial  inheritance,  hid  away  for  ages 
of  ages  in  the  mysterious  treasure-vaults  of  nature. 
Then,   too,   will    agriculture    receive   new    impulse 


4o8  COLORADO    IN    AUTUMN. 

and  inspiration.  Tlie  rivers  must  send  forth  their 
missionaries  of  fruitfulness  and  verdure,  and  lace 
the  land  with  irrigating  canals.  The  brown  plains 
v/iU  be  tapped  with  wells,  and  the  prairie  winds, 
wild  and  idle  since  the  creation,  will  be  set  to 
work  to  turn  those  picturesque  mills,  whose  mis- 
sion it  will  be  to  transform  the  desert  into  a 
garden  of  delight,  of  matchless  melons  and  mon- 
strous cabbages,  beets  and  onions,  pumpkins  and 
turnips,  such  as  New  England  farmers  never  dream 
of,  even  after  a  Thanksgiving  dinner.  It  is  easy 
to  see  that  this  system  of  narrow-gauge  railroads  — 
the  only  system  practicable  in  these  mountains  — 
will  enrich  this  section,  add  materially  to  the 
wealth  of  the  whole  country,  and  not  be  a  bad 
thing  for  the  parties  particularly  engaged  in  it. 
The  Union  Pacific  Railroad  Company  are  men 
wise  in  their  generation.  They  know  when  the 
harvest  of  golden  opportunity  is  ripe,  and  just 
where    to    thrust    in    their   keen    Sickels. 

The  weather  in  Colorado  was,  all  through  Octo- 
ber, brilliant,  dry,  and  warm,  —  too  warm  some- 
times for  comfort  in  the  middle  of  the  day. 
The  contrast   between   day   and   night  we   found  a 


FOUNTAIN    CANON.  409 

little  too  sharp.  For  that  reason  I  do  not  think 
Denver,  or  any  of  the  mountain  towns,  the  best 
place  for  invalids  during  the  autumn  and  winter. 
Of  all  the  points  I  have  yet  visited  in  the  Ter- 
ritory, I  think  Manitou  Springs,  near  the  mouth 
of  Fountain  Canon,  decidedly  the  safest  and  pleas- 
antest  spot  for  an  invalid.  It  is  sheltered  from 
the  sharp  winds,  yet  sufficiently  open  to  the  sun- 
light ;  it  has  a  great  deal  of  foliage,  yet  is  sin- 
gularly cheerful ;  it  is  near  the  grand  mountains, 
yet  is  not  darkly  domineered  over  by  them. 
There  is  there  now  a  beautiful,  comfortable,  and 
home-like  hotel,  admirably  managed,  which  is  to 
be  kept  open  all  winter  for  the  special  benefit 
of  invalids.  Friends  of  ours,  who  spent  last  win- 
ter in  this  neighborhood,  give  enthusiastic  accounts 
of  the  mild  and  brilliant  weather,  and  the  pure, 
bracing  air,  which  kept  them  and  their  young 
children  in  perfect  health  and  joyous  spirits  all 
through  the  season,  —  a  season  exceptionally  cold 
and  stormy  in  the  northern  part  of  the  Territory. 
People  who  come  to  Colorado  for  their  health 
make,  I  am  assured,  a  grave  mistake  in  leaving 
with   the   summer.     If  they   find   themselves   bene- 

18 


4IO  COLORADO    IN    AUTUMN. 

fited  at  all  by  the  air  and  the  altitude,  they 
should  remain  through  the  autumn,  at  least,  and 
then,    if  still    better,    try    the  winter. 

The  finest  grounds  about  the  Springs  have 
been  laid  out  in  villa  lots,  and  are  rapidly  being 
built  upon ;  so  the  time  is  not  distant  when 
Manitou  will  be,  not  only  the  loveliest  spot  in  this 
lovely  wild  land,  but  a  thronged  and  fashionable 
watering-place. 

The  railroad  ride  from  Colorado  Springs  to  Den- 
ver we  found  almost  as  delightful  as  in  the  sum- 
mer ;  but,  after  all,  it  was  tame  compared  with 
the  stage  ride  we  took,  a  few  days  later,  from 
Central  to  Georgetown,  over  a  wonderful  moun- 
tain road.  We  set  out  from  Central  on  a  breezy 
but  sunny  day,  under  a  heavy  press  of  parasol : 
we  reached  Georgetown  amid  darkness,  cold,  rain, 
and  snow.  But  the  morning  dawned  brightly, 
and  we  enjoyed  to  the  utmost  our  brief  visit  to 
that  queen  of  the  old  mining  towns.  We  took 
advantage  of  every  burst  of  sunlight,  we  drove 
and  walked  in  the  teeth  of  the  keen  wind,  and 
took  horseback  excursions  under  the  gray  wings  of 
hovering  snow-storms  ;   and  when  we  departed,  the 


THE    TRIUMPH    OF    TRAVELING.  4II 

winter  seemed  closing  in  upon  the  town,  sweep- 
ing down  the  dark  canons ;  and  the  whole  grand 
mountain  and  valley  picture  was  something  to 
look  back  upon  with  a  thrill  of  admiration,  also 
of  joy  at  having  safely  run  the  blockade.  By 
the  way,  they  are  having  at  Georgetown  what  they 
call  an  "ore  blockade."  The  miners  have  got  out 
more  ore  than  they  can  dispose  of  by  sale  at  paying 
prices,  or  by  reducing,  though  the  mills  are  crush- 
ing, and  the  smelting-works  fuming,  like  so  many 
mferttos  day  and  night.  Here,  as  in  other  mining 
towns,  "the  whole  creation  groaneth  and  travail- 
eth  together"  for  the  happy  day  of  railroad  fa- 
cilities. But  I  shall  be  sorry  to  see  even  the 
pretty  passenger-cars  of  the  "baby  railroad"  su- 
persede the  admirable  stage-coaches  of  this  most 
picturesque  mountain  route.  Life  will  have  lost 
much  of  its  savor  when  we  can  hope  to  sit  no 
more  on  the  lofty  box  beside  pleasant  Hiram 
Washburn,  and  watch  his  splendid  handling  of 
his  handsome  six-horse  team,  hear  his  jokes  and 
stories,  look  over  mountain  and  valley,  away  and 
away,  drink  in  the  heavenly  air,  and  peer  down 
occasionally    on     the     inside     passengers,     getting 


412  COLORADO    IN    AUTUMN. 

all  the  dust  and  little  of  the  prospect.  It  is 
the   very   bliss   and   triumph   of  traveling. 

We  found  sunny,  sheltered  Idaho  still  attrac- 
tive, though  almost  deserted  by  visitors.  The 
bright,  cosy  parlor  of  the  Beebe  House  looked 
so  precisely  as  it  did  during  my  summer  visit 
of  last  year,  that  I  looked  round  involuntarily  for 
the  pleasant  friends  that  there  used  to  gather 
for  long,  merry  evenings.  Alas !  they  are  widely 
scattered  ;  and  one  young  girl,  whose  sweet,  yearn- 
ing face  had  a  look,  even  then,  of  having  done 
with  all  earthly  things,  except  love,  has  since 
passed  through  a  valley  more  shadowy  and  yet 
more  peaceful  than  this,  and  stood  on  more  de- 
lectable mountains  than  these,  and  is  now  breath- 
ing an  air  that  has  in  it  no  faintest  taint  of 
mortal  decay,  no  threatening  of  winter,  no  chill 
of  death. 

We  leave  for  the  East  next  week,  and,  late  as 
it  is,  we  leave  with  regret.  The  weather  has  been 
thus  far  so  almost  miraculously  beautiful  and 
bright,  and  the  air  of  the  day  of  so  divine  a 
quality,  that  in  every  way  we  feel  "  it  is  good  to 
be  here."     In   this   transparent  air,  the  views  both 


A    LAST    FOND     LOOK.  413 

from  Denver  and  here  of  the  snowy  peaks  and 
domes  on  the  vast  range  are  marvelously  grand 
and  uplifting,  especially  at  sunset  and  sunrise. 
And  the  tawny  earth,  in  the  wide,  still  plain  that 
weds  the  sky  in  the  utterly  level  horizon,  like  a 
sea  becalmed,  and  in  those  grand  ground-swells 
that  reach  the  purple  foot-hills,  has  a  beauty  of 
its  own,  —  a  stern,  grave,  uncompromising  beauty, 
which  seems  to  say,  "  Nature  and  the  grand  forms 
she  first  created,  mighty,  unsubdued  creatures, 
were  content  with  me,  and  I  am  content  with 
myself.  Better  to  be  the  free  waste  of  God,  the 
pasture  of  his  wild  flocks,  the  racing-ground  of 
his  winds,  than  the  garden  of  man,  fenced  and 
ditched   and   harrowed   and   burdened." 

I  dread  to  think  how  we  shall  miss  this  sense 
of  magnificent  altitude,  of  infinite  roominess,  when 
we  get  down  home,  by  the  Potomac,  into  the 
damp,  low  region  of  fogs  and  politics,  where  we 
can  only  get  views  of  river  or  hills  in  street- 
wide  vistas,  and  aggravating  glimpses  of  sunset 
over   the    gloomy   roof  of  the    Coast   Survey. 


Cambridge  :  Elcctrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  8c.  Ca 


May,  1873. 


|.  §.  Jfortr  'St  €a/s  ^itMimtbns. 


BRAVE  HEARTS. 

By  ROBERTSON  GRAY. 

THK'GREAT  CHARACTERISTIC   AMERICAN    NOVEL. 

I  vol.    i2rao.  [/«  Press. 


A  GOOD  MARCH. 

A  CLEVER   AND  AMUSING   NOVEL,    AGREEABLY   WRITTEN,    RACY,    AND   LIVELY. 

By  AMELIA  PERVIER,  Author  of"  Mea  Culpa." 

I  vol.     umo.  [/«  Press. 


PLAIN    AND    PLEASANT    TALK    ABOUT    FRUIT, 
FLOWERS,   AND   FARMING. 

Bv  HENRY  WARD   BEECHER. 
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NORWOOD ;  OR,  VILLAGE  LIFE  IN  NEW  ENGLAND. 

A  Novel. 

By  HENRY   WARD   BEECHER. 

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YALE   LECTURES   ON  PREACHING. 

First  Series. 

By  henry  ward   BEECHER. 

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"  Vigorous,  eloquent,  and  practical."  —  Phila- 
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STAR  PAPERS. 

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^vriting.  not  even  the  best  sketches  of  Washing- 
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and  perspicuity  of  statement  these  '  Star  Pa- 
pers.' "  —  Methodist  Home  yonrnal. 


LECTURES  TO  YOUNG  MEN   ON  VARIOUS  IMPOR- 
TANT SUBJECTS. 

NEW  EDITION,    WITH    ADDITIONAL    LECTURES. 

By  henry  WARD  BEECHER. 

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earnestness,  and  well  fitted  for  its  mission  to 
improve  and  benefit  the  youth  of  the  land." 
—  Boston  Cofnjnojfwealth. 

"  These  lectures  are  written  with  all  tlie  vigor 


of  style  and  beauty  of  language  which  charac- 
terizes everything  from  the  pen  of  this  remarka- 
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tions upon  every -day  subjects,  conveyed  with  a 
power  of  eloquence  and  a  practical  illustration  so 
unique  as  to  be  oftentimes  startling  to  the  reader 
of  ordinary  discourses  of  the  kind."  —  Phila- 
lielphia  inquirer. 


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NEW   LIFE   IN  NEW  LANDS. 

kotes  of  travel  across  the  american  continent,  from  chicago  to  the 

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By  grace  greenwood. 

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would  see,  and  she  has  a  happy  linack  of  pick- 
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and  tossing  thent  across  the  continent  right  be- 
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"  One  of  its  best  charms  is  a  freshness  as  of  the 


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Americajt  and  Gazette. 

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her  account  of  Mormons  and  Mormonism  as  the 
most  graphic  and  trustworthy  he  had  ever  read." 
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"A  truthful , picture  of  the  life  of  the  great 
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MOTHERLY  TALKS  WITH  YOUNG  HOUSEKEEPERS. 

WITH   CARBON-PHOTOGRAPHIC    PORTRAIT   OF   THE   AUTHOR. 

By  MRS.  H.  W.  BEECHER. 


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EVi-ning;  Herald. 

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tural truth,  great  power,  glorious  imagination, 
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Cloth,  $  2.50  each. 

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life,  touching  appeals  to  nobler  purposes  and 
more  generous  action."  —Springfield  (Mass.) 
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MY  WIFE  AND  I ; 

OR,    HARRY    HENDERSON'S    HISTORY. 

A   Novel. 

By  HARRIET    BEECHER   STOWE. 

Illustrated  by  H.  L.  Stephens,     i  vol.     Cloth,  stamped  cover,  $  1.73. 


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Mrs.  Stowe  has  achieved  an  unbounded  success 
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MATERNITY : 

A  POPULAR  TREATISE  FOR  WIVES  AND  MOTHERS, 

By  T.  S.  VERDI,  A.  M.,  M.  D. 

F'ifth  Edition. 


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•'  The  author  deserves  great  credit  for  his  la- 
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tion."—  U,  S.  Medical  ajid  Surgical  Journal 
{Chicago). 

"  We  haii  the  appearance  of  this  work  with 
true  pleasure.  It  is  dictated  by  a  pure  and  lib- 
eral spirit,  and  will  be  a  real  boon  to  many  a 


-American  Medical  Observer 


young  mother.' 
(Detroit). 

"There  are  few  intelligent  mothers  who  will 
not  be  benefited  by  reading  and  keeping  by  thera 
for  frequent  counsel  a  volume  so  rich  in  valuable 
suggestions.  With  its  tables,  prescriptions,  and 
indices  at  the  end,  this  book  ought  to  do  much 
good."  —  Hearth  and  Home. 


THE   CHILDREN'S  WEEK: 

SEVEN    STORIES    FOR    SEVEK    DAYS. 

By  R.  W.  RAYMOND. 

With  nine  full-page  Illustrations  by  H-  L.  Stephens  and  Miss  M.  L.  Hallocic. 
1  vol.     i6mo.     Cloth,  $  1.25  ;  Cloth  gilt,  %  1.50. 


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people  of  culture,  and  yet  so  simple  tiiat  children 
will  welcome  it  with  glee.  Mr.  Raymond's  tales 
have  won  great  popularity  by  th.ir  \.  t,  deUcate 
fancy,  and,  withal,  admirable  good  sense.  The 
illustrations  —  all  new  and  made  for  the  book  — 
are  particularly  apt  and  pleasing,  showing  forth 
the  comical  element  of  the  book  and  its  pure 
and  beautiful  sentiment"  —  Buffalo  {N.  Y.) 
Commercial  Advertiser. 


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delicate  fancy,  and,  withal,  admirable  good 
sense."  —  St.  Louis  Detnocrat. 

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people  of  culture,  and  yet  so  shuple  that  children 
will  welcome  it  with  glee." —  Cleveland  Plain- 
dealer. 


THE  OVERTURE   OF  ANGELS. 

a  series  of  pictures  of  the  angelic  appearances  attending  the  nativity 
of  our  lord.     a  chapter  from  the  "  life  of  christ." 

By  henry  ward   BEECHER. 
Illustrated  by  Harry  Fenn.     i  vol.     i2mo.     J  2.00. 


*'  The  style,  the  sentiment,  and  faithfulness  to 
the  spirit  of  the  Biblical  record  with  which  the 
narrative  is  treated  are  characteristic  of  its 
author,  and  will  commend  it  to  many  readers,  to 


whom  its  elegance  of  form  will  give  it  an  addi- 
tional attraction."  —  IVorcester  {Mass.)  Spy. 

"A  perfect  fragment."  —  A'.  Y.  World. 


OUR  SEVEN   CHURCHES: 

EIGHT  LECTiniES. 

By  THOMAS  K.  BEECHER. 

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with  grateful  surprise  that  a  minister  belonging 
to  a  sect  can  think  and  speak  so  generously  and 
nobly."  —  Milwaukee  Sentinel. 


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5 


MINES,  MILLS,  AND  FURNACES  OF  THE  PRECIOUS 
METALS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

BEING   A    COMPLETE   EXPOSITION    OF    THE    GENERAL    METHODS    EMPLOYED    IN     THE 
GREAT   MINING    INDUSTRIES   OF   AMERICA. 

By  R.  W.  RAYMOND, 

U.  S.  Commissioner  of  Mining  Statistics. 

With  Plates. 

I  vol.     8vo.     Cloth,  ji  3.50. 


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has  already  published  a  work  on  our  mines  which 
commanded  universal  approval  by  its  clearness 
of  statement  and  breadth  of  \\evis."  —  Albany 
(N.  v.)  Argus. 

"His  scientific  ability,  his  practical  knowledge 


of  min:s  and  mining,  his  unerring  judgment, 
and,  linally,  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  enters 
upon  his  work,  all  combine  to  fit  him  for  his  po- 
sition, and  none  could  bring  to  it  a  greater  de- 
gree of  uprightness  and  fairness.  —Demer 
(Co/.)  NeTvs. 


PRINCIPLES   OF  DOMESTIC   SCIENCE 

AS  APPLIED  TO  THE  DUTIES  AND  PLEASURES  OF  HOME. 

By  CATHARINE  E.  BEECHER  and  HARRIET  BEECHER  STOWE. 

Profuielij  Illustrated,     i  vol.     i2mo.     $2.00. 

The  work  has  been  heartily  indorsed  and  adopted  by  the  directors  of  many  of  the  leading  Col- 
leges  and  Seminaries  for  young  woman  as  a  text-book,  both  for  study  and  reading.   • 


HISTORY   OF  THE  STATE   OF   NEW  YORK. 

from  the  date  of  the  discovery  and  settlements  on  manhattan  isl- 
and to  the  present  time.     a  text-book  for  high  schools, 
academies,  and  colleges. 

By  S.    S.    RAND.\LL. 

Sup't  of  Pub.  Education  in  N  Y.  City. 

Illusira/ed. 

I  vol.      i2mo.     $  1.75. 

Officially  adopted  by  the  Boards  of  Education  in  the  cities  of  New  York.  Brooklyn,  and  Jersey 
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fFor^s  Published  by  y.  B.  Ford  6^  Co. 


mbstriptroix  Ipublkalions. 


THE   LIFE   OF  JESUS,   THE   CHRIST. 

By  henry  ward   BEECHER. 

profusely   illustrated,   from   designs   after   nature,  by   a.   l.  rawson, 
drawn  on  wood  by  harry  fenn,  and  engraved  by  the  brothers 
linton;  with    numerous   maps;  and  with    a   steel   fron- 
TISPIECE,   "head   OF    CHRIST,"    FROM    DA   VINCl'S 
"  LAST   SUPPER,"    BY    W.  E.  MARSHALL. 

Popular  Edition,     i  vol.     8vo.     Cloth,  %  3.50. 
I Jizperial  Edition,     i  vol.     410.     Cloth,  J  7.50. 
Part  II.     In  Preparation. 


"  The  book  which  the  masses  of  the  Christian 
world  have  been  waiting  for."  —  Rev.  R  S 
Storrs.  D.  D. 

"We  know  of  no  book  wliich  is  so  well  calcu- 
lated to  answer  the  wants  of  the  Christian  pub- 
lic of  all  classes,  sects,  and  denominations."  — 
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nearly  perfect  as  possible,  and  have  added  every 
beauty  which  fine  engravings,  excellent  maps, 
elegant  typography,  and  sumptuous  binding  can 
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risms, delineations  like  those  of  a  painter."  — 
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view. 

"  He  has  neither  thrown  off  his  random 
thoughts  nor  strung  together  his  best  thoughts  ; 
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of  their  strength,  in  the  richness  of  their  expe- 
rience, and  the  largeness  of  their  development, 
to  produce  a  work  that  may  fitly  represent  the 
results  of  his  life."  — REV.  J.  F.  THOMPSON, 
2n  tlie  Independent. 


A  LIBRARY   OF  POETRY   AND    SONG: 

BEING  CHOICE  SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  POETS. 

with  an  introduction 
By  WILLIAM   CULLEN    BRYANT. 
Illustrated  with  a  Portrait  on  Steel  of  Mr.  Bryant,  twenty-six  Autographic  Fac- 
similes on  Wood  of  Celebrated  Poets,  aiid  sixteen  full-page  Wood 
Engravings  by  the  best  Artists. 


Popular  Edition. 
Red- Line  Edition. 

"Good  taste  has  ruled  in  the  selections,  and 
the  compiler  has  performed  his  exceedingly  dif- 
ficult task  with  great  success."— CAzi-aj'i?  ^a'- 
'vance. 

"  It  is  undoubtedly  what  its  preface  cla-ms  it  to 
be,  —  '  the  choicest  and  most  complete  general 
collection  of  poetry  yet  published."  Bryant's 
Introduction  to  the  volume  is  a  most  beautiful 
and  comprehensive  critical  essay  on  poets  and 
poetry,  from  the  days  of  •  the  father  of  Engl  sh 
poetry  to  the  present  time.' "  —  Albany  Evening 
Journal.  "^  "^ 

"  Indeed,  nothing  has  ever  approached  it  in 


I  vol.     8vo.     $  s^oo. 
I  vol.     8vo.     $  7-50. 

completeness.  From  Shakespeare  to  the  anony- 
mous  poems,  and  those  of  little-known  authors 
of  to-day,  scarcely  anything  at  all  a  favorite,  or 
at  all  worthy  of  place  here,  is  neglected.  It  is 
a  book  for  every  household,  —  for  holiday  pres- 
ents, one  of  the  best  things  imaginable."  — AVa/ 
]  'ork  Lvening  Alail. 

"  The  frontispiece  is  an  exquisite  likeness  of 
Mr.  Brj'ant,  and  scattered  throughout  the  book 
are  many  autograph  fac-siniiles,  which  greatly 
enhance  its  attractiveness."  — A>zu  York  Even- 
ing Posl. 


27  Park  Place,  mid  24  &^  26  Murray  Street,  New  York. 


Works  Published  by  y.  B.  Ford  6-  Co. 
^ubsitription  'publications.  —  Continued. 


A  LIBRARY   OF  FAMOUS   FICTION. 

EMBRACING  THE  NINE  STANDARD  MASTERPIECES  OF  IMAGINA- 
TIVE  LITERATURE. 


WITH     AN      INTRODUCTION 

By  HARRIET   BEECHER  STOWE. 
Illustrated  with  thirty-five  Engravings  071  Wood. 


I  vol.     8vo.     1070  pages. 


"  A  fitting  companion  for  the  popular  '  Library 
of  Poetry  and  Song. '"  —  Lyons  (A'.  Y.  )  Repub- 
lican. 

"  All  ages  will  delight  in  it,  — some  because  it 
presents  the  tales  which  charmed  them  in  youth, 
and  some  because  it  will  open  to  them  tlie  rich 
treasures  of  wildest  fancy  and  most  limitless 
imagination."  —  PhitatUlphia  Age. 

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AN  TTNSECTARIAN  RELIGIOUS  WEEKLY  NEWSPAPER. 
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From  Verbatim    Reports    by   T.    J.    Ellinwood,   for   15   years    Mr.    Beecher's 

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